


i've only got forever (and forever is fine)

by cliffakitten



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Hate Sex, I'll add more tags as we go, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform, and ashton isn't your normal werewolf, artist!Ashton, but luke has never felt the whole broody-vampire thing much, malum hate sex that is, oh and his parents are dicks but they're not in it really, rating will most probably increase, vampire!luke, vampire!michael, vampires and werewolves hate each other, werewolf!ashton, werewolf!calum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliffakitten/pseuds/cliffakitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ignore them.” He tells him, bluntly, waving his arm at the surrounding crowd. “You're art is happy and warm, it makes you feel good just by looking at it, they don't get that. They can only appreciate the boring ass depressing stuff.”</p><p>Ashton knows his mouth is gaping open, he can feel it and knows he should probably be closing it some time soon or he's going to look like a right idiot, but it takes a while for his brain to catch up. He had never expected this, what ever this was, what ever this vampire boy was saying. He reminded Ashton of himself, how he thought was just how he did and that was something that had never really happened before</p><p>~<br/>or: Ashton is a werewolf and an artist in a world where this is seen as a strange and wrong for someone of his kind to be artistic in any form, then he meets Luke, a vampire boy struggling with his own problems of not fitting in with the norms of his own kind. And both boys find out that they just might not be as alone as they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beautiful people of the fandom world, how be you?! Okay, so this is the start of my next longer chaptered fic, once again the brain child of the gorgeous Emily (illbeyourdirtylittlethrill on tumblr) and myself, and there's just a few things to cover before hand, so bare with me.
> 
> Alrighty, so in this little au world, there's a hierarchy of sorts between the different kinds of supernatural creatures in society. Basically, vampires are top (the aristocratic types if you will) and werewolves are down at the bottom (much like the working class of the world).  
> Each kind has the same expectations of it's people, so for example the vampires are your typical broody, snooty nosed, pretentious assholes. And the werewolves are prideful, alpha male-y (essentially billy elliots dad but much more intense). And if one of them doesn't fit into the typical behaviour of their kind, they are seen as a freak and a disgrace to their family, e.t.c....
> 
> This probably sounds much darker than it's actually going to be, and the start is pretty much the same, but I promise it wont be! So yeah, onwards! :D

 

Being a werewolf in a world which was owned by vampires was pretty tough. Growing up all Ashton ever heard was how he should hate vampires, how they were a stuck up, self entitled race and were all that was wrong with the world. Nothing good could come from associating with vampires.

In school it had only gotten worse, those arrogant pig headed boys who liked to shout about why vampires were more respected by the humans, when they are the ones who actively kill them. Ashton thought they were stupid, to him it was obvious, the humans _feared_ vampires because of what they were, what they could do to them. He couldn't even remember the last time a werewolf killed a human, it was only logical that they protect themselves as much as they could by giving the vampires what they want. He also thought that it was funny how werewolves spent so much time talking about the creatures they supposedly hated so much.

Not that he said any of this of course, he didn't need a harder life than the one he already had, thanks. One of the most prized traits of a werewolf was their loyalty to their own, however as Ashton grew up he quickly learned that this only counted if you were just how they expected a werewolf to be. To be accepted, you had to be like everyone else, think like everyone else.

So when Ashton had been caught in his room when he was eleven, splayed out on his bed with a paintbrush in his hands and his face splattered with bits of colour, his family were not best pleased. “We're wolves, Ashton. Wolves don't do _art_.” his dad had shouted, snapping each and every one of the paintbrushes in front of his son's face.

Years later, Ashton would realise that his father was looking for some kind of reaction that wasn't tears, some fight, some anger, anything that a werewolf was known for. But Ashton didn't want to fight, didn't want to yell at people all the time...he just wanted to paint. What was so wrong with that?

Over the years, his dad tried to get him to develop some more 'wolf-like' traits, tried to take him to work at the factory to show how “real wolves work”. But Ashton wasn't interested and no matter how hard his dad tried he still did his art, in secret now of course, whenever he could, he just wasn't interested in factory work. Soon, his dad seemed to realise this and Ashton heard his parents talking late at night with hushed voices in the kitchen.

“You shouldn't worry too much, once he's had his first change he'll be normal.” he heard his mum say one night, when he was fifteen. He heard his mum say that a lot, until a year later when Ashton had his first change under the autumn moon.

His family had been happy, everyone saying how his wolf was the most beautiful they'd seen in years. Sandy, gold coat with bright green eyes and strong paws, Ashton liked his wolf, liked how everyone was pleased with him, like he had finally got something right.

But his dad still scowled at him when he saw his son so much as draw in the dirt with a stick.

Ashton knew that his parents had hoped for some kind of change, he didn't know what they expected to happen, so kind of epiphany perhaps. Maybe they thought once he had taken his full wolf form, he would be 'fixed' that it would connect the 'true wolf' part of him in his head. That didn't happen and even though he had gotten bolder over the years, it wasn't enough in his dad's eyes.

The final straw came when Ashton was seventeen and the time came for him to start to apply for colleges, specifically, in Ashton's case art colleges. He knew the moment the letters of acceptance hit the door mat, knew the moment he heard his father's furious shouts echo around the house, the heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs and the door to his room blast open. His dad stood in the door way, letters crumpled in his hand and eye's burning the brightest red Ashton had ever seen.

“What is _this_!” he growled, shoving the papers forward, and Ashton could see where his claws had ripped some of the sheets. “You were meant to apply for the colleges your mother and I picked out, good hard working colleges, not _this_ trash.” he finished, throwing the letters to the ground.

“I don't _want_ to go to a mechanical college, dad. I want to paint!” Ashton insisted, he wasn't scared of his father any more, not now he knew he had a place to go, a place to escape to. “I want to be an artist, I'm good enough, I can do it. Why isn't that good enough for you, you're supposed to be my dad, you're supposed to support me!” he cries, taking his headphone out and standing up off the bed, so that he is nose to nose with the older man, his own eyes with a brighter hint of green in them.

His dad lets out a low growl, “Don't you call me that.” he snarls, “You're not my son, not any more.” he says, poking Ashton in the chest and the boy retreats back a few steps, eyes wide and hearing his mum gasp by the door. “You're an embarrassment, is what you are. If you go to that school, you leave today and you're not welcome back in this house, you hear me.”

Ashton swallows down the lump in his throat, glancing over his father's shoulder at his mum, who still stands by the door but says nothing. “Fine.” he mumbles, “Fine, if that's what you want.” he goes to his wardrobe, pulling down a suitcase from on top of it.

His dad snorts, “What I want is a wolf for a son, not some pathetic mut like you.” he snarls, watching as Ashton throws his clothes into the case.

“Well, you don't have to worry about that any more, like you said...I'm not your son.” Ashton laughs, it's low and humourless but if he doesn't brush off his father's comments he'll break down, and he promised himself he wouldn't do that again.

“Oh, Ashton don't be like that.” his mum pleads from the door, as he zips up the case and grabs his ipod of the bed.

“Let him go.” his dad says, the smirk on his face showing in his voice. “Let him see how tough the real world is, how they'd treat a wolf who doesn't know his place, even one who doesn't even deserve to be called a werewolf.”

There's a heavy silence that falls over the room at his words, as Ashton and his dad stare each other down, Ashton's bag in his hand and both their chests heaving. “Alright, I'll see shall I, and the you can see when I make it, when I prove you wrong.” he promises, pulling his bag towards the door and his mother, still wide eyed and unmoving, even as he brushes past her on his way out without a second glance back.

As he walks away from his childhood house, heading a step closer to his dream, Ashton can't help but think his eleven year old self would have been proud of him.

 

~oOo~

 

It had been five years since Ashton had last seen his family, since he started art college, started his life. If their was one thing he had learned in those five years, it was that being a werewolf in a vampire centric world was tough, but being a werewolf who didn't behave like everyone expected a werewolf to was much tougher than he had thought it would have been.

Sure, college had been more of a challenge then he thought it would be. Not because of the work, in fact Ashton was one of the stop student in his year, but of the other students, the staff. They treated him just like his father said they would, like he was wrong, a freak and it was even worse when he started to do the work better than them. But then he had Calum, the only other wolf who didn't seem to think that the fact Ashton liked to draw made him any less of a wolf than the others, and he is gratefully every day for the other boy.

Life after graduation wasn't much different, he tried studio after studio looking for some work, having them laugh in his face or throw him out, thinking he was joking. After months of searching, he found a tiny studio tucked away in the corner of the city it was there where Ashton met Isla.

Isla was a nymph, an old one at that and happened to be one of the cities most famous artists. Naturally when she took in Ashton as her new apprentice, there was a little bit of a stir. A year later when she got him a space at an art exhibition, for a chance at a high end internship, well there was a bit more than a stir.

It was a small place, enough for two pieces of work, and Ashton knew that it was only because of Isla's name that he had a space at all and was determined to do her proud, working for months on the selected pieces. The thing was that, not only was Ashton standing out quite spectacularly in the room filled with mostly high end vampires, just by being a werewolf, but his art style wasn't exactly fitting with the others in the room.

The vampires had a preference to sleek and sophisticated art, smooth sculptures of curly shaped and blocks of black and white. Ashton's art didn't look like that at all, it was all colours and a bit messy, but it was warm, that was the most important thing to him. Naturally this went down well with the crowds of icy-skinned vampires, most of them walking past his place with mocking looks and belittling comments, very few actually considering his work at all.

Over the years, Ashton had gotten pretty damn good at brushing off all the negativity but the intensity of it all, the constant dismissive looks and condescending laughter from what felt like every single creature in the room, was starting to get to him.

As subtly as he can, Ashton takes his phone from his pocket thanking all those college years for making him master the art of covert texting. Not being exactly sure it would be seen as a professional move for an artist to be caught texting in the middle of an exhibition, it wasn't like he was getting enough bad vibes as it was.

 

**Ash:** _ cal i cant do this, its even worse than i thought  _

 

**Cal:** _ cmon man, you got half an hour left, just suck it up ;) _

 

**Ash:** _ ….this is really not the time for vampire puns  _

 

**Cal:** _ bet it made you smile tho  _

 

Ashton freezes, realising that he must now look like a total idiot who's grinning stupidly at the ground.  _ damnit cal _

 

**Ash:** _...no _

 

**Cal:** _ you do know I can tell when youre lying even through text right ;) _

 

**Cal:** _ sorry man gotta go, theres a duck with its beak stuck together with gum thats just come in, you got this tho hang in there _

 

Ashton sighs heavily, locking his phone and his last lifeline in this world he found himself in. It was as if the constant stares were weighing on him, pushing the air from the room and suffocating him.

He wanted to leave, his head was screaming at him to leave, to run, far away from the sea of bright, glowing eyes and pearly smooth skin. He'll explain to Isla, she'd understand, they both knew that coming here was a long shot any way, it wouldn't make much difference. They'd be other shows, other smaller exhibitions to try.

Ashton turns to leave, stopping when he sees a family of three vampires that have actually stopped and are looking at his pieces. Their expressions are borderline judgemental and when the mother (he guesses) opens her mouth with a brief, “How quaint.” her tone is clipped and almost teasing, “These don't quite hold the same emotion as the other pieces, do they?” she adds, and Ashton's had it, had it with fucking vampires and their love for all things cold and empty and -

“What black and white with hints of cold and emptiness, you mean? I think these are lovely.” comes another voice, a younger one at that and Ashton spins around so fast he catches the vampire family's eye, all three of them looking at him.

The parents eyes narrow slightly once they match the sent of wolf to him, but the son looks almost amused. And Ashton is quite taken back at the sight of him, it's the hair at first with it not been often you see a vampire with blonde hair, even his mother has it but nowhere near the shade of her son's. Even without the hair, he thinks this boy would have no problem turning heads, he's stupidly tall with ridiculously broad shoulders to match and fuck does he make quite a sight. But it's the eyes, the most intense blue eyes that Ashton had ever seen...and they're looking right into his own.

“Are you the artist?” the mother asks him, drawing Ashton's attention away from the younger vampire.

Before he can answer her husband laughs, and there's a pin on his lapel which Ashton knows to mean he belongs to a high order of vampire family. “What, the wolf? Come now, dear don't be ridiculous.” and Ashton finds himself shuffling on his feet at their words, without even thinking, he hears his father's voice in his head telling him to stop, and lecturing him on how, 'wolves are fierce.'

Looking straight at the couple, he says in a slightly raised, clear voice, “Actually I am.”

The vampire's eyes flicker between the werewolf and the art with growing disappointment, as he scoffs taking his wife's arm and guiding them both away. Much to Ashton's surprise, their son stays, looking at the pieces with the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

“They really are lovely. Much better than anything else here.” he says, smiling at the werewolf boy, it's not a patronising one either, or a sympathetic one, it's a genuine smile.

One that Ashton finds himself returning, “Thank you, you're the first person to think that today.” he replies, trying to laugh of the sorry truth of the fact, but the vampire boy's expression only turns sour instead.

“Ignore them.” He tells him, bluntly, waving his arm at the surrounding crowd. “You're art is happy and warm, it makes you feel good just by looking at it, they don't get that. They can only appreciate the boring ass depressing stuff.”

Ashton knows his mouth is gaping open, he can feel it and knows he should probably be closing it some time soon or he's going to look like a right idiot, but it takes a while for his brain to catch up. He had never expected this, what ever this was, what ever this vampire boy was saying. He reminded Ashton of himself, how he thought was just how he did and that was something that had never really happened before, and he was intrigued.

“Don't you?” he asks, unable to keep all of the shock from his voice.

The boy smiles at him with a knowing twinkle in his eye, “Never had much of a taste for it to be honest, that or anything else that's considered normal...which no one seems to have grasped onto yet.” he adds under his breath, looking away from the werewolf and down at his feet, pushing the edges of his shoes together, before laughing somewhat bitterly. “But I'd guess you'd know a bit about that, being a werewolf in art school and all?” he asks.

Ashton snorts, “Yeah, tell me about it.” and he can't actually stop smiling, because someone finally gets it. Sure, he's had Calum around since he was sixteen and they both went through the first change together, the other boy being one of the only ones who stuck with him after he had left home. But this was different, this boy, this _vampire boy_ , seemed to understand and Ashton wanted to grab him and run, to a cafe or a park just somewhere that wasn't here so they could talk.

Something told him that the blonde boy needed it just as much as he did.

But then his parents were back, obviously trying not to make a scene, with their expressions sever and tones clipped as they practically hissed at their son to hurry up, his father taking hold of his upper arm and guiding him off.

Before he's out of sight he's turning back to the werewolf and calling out, “It was really nice to meet you, um...?”

“Ashton, Ashton Irwin.” he replies, head craning over a few other vampires and a troll couple who pass between them, and he sees the vampire boy grin, white teeth flashing in the light of the gallery.

“I'll remember that.” he says, “I'm Luke by the way.” he manages, waving quickly before he is lost completely in the crowd.

For some reason, Ashton isn't quite as bothered by all the glances and whispered comments for the rest of the show, in fact he barely notices them.

 

~

 

A few days after the show and Ashton arrives at the studio with his hand full of Isla's favourite cupcakes, if he has to tell her that not one offer was made on his pieces, then he's going to need the cupcakes to make up for it. But before he's even closed the door, there's a high pitched squeal from the back room and then there's a grey haired, tiny plump lady hurdling towards him.

Isla throws her short arms around his middle, jumping up and down with the kind of energy her appearance doesn't suggest she has. “Why didn't you tell me, young man!” she scolds, trying to look firm but her blue/violet eyes are sparkling up at him when she pulls away.

Ashton blinks down at her, the box of cupcakes help precariously in one hand. “Tell you what?” he asks, completely confused at her reaction.

She tuts at him, mouth parting when her eyes find the box in his hand. “Are those cupcakes?” she asks, making grabby hands like a child and Ashton only holds the box up further.

“Isla, what happened?” he asks and the nymph sighs, eyeing the box of cupcakes longingly.

“Your painting.” she says, “You didn't tell me someone bought it!” and now Ashton really was confused.

“What? No they didn't, I didn't even get an offer.” he explains and Isla tuts again, waving her fingers and a bit of paper floats in from the back room, which she promptly shoves in his face.

“What do you call that then?”

Ashton blinks down at the order sheet, the piece purchased, how much for, the delivery address and the name of the buyer: _Luke Hemmings_. And Ashton's heart jumps in his chest, images of blonde hair and bright blue eyes flashing through his mind, and he finds himself asking. “Do you mind if I deliver it to them myself?”

 

~oOo~

 

Calum hates early mornings. Those mornings where you have to be up and out the house even though the street lights are still lit, and there's a thin layer of mist hanging in the air around them, which makes everything around it caught in a hazy glow. There's a fresh coating of frost covering the grass of the park he passes, and Calum is very glad for his natural werewolf warmth on these types of mornings.

They're not all bad, once he's fought past the wall of sleep induced groggyness and can actually pay some form of attention to the world around him, he can appreciate the soft quietness of the streets. It's a different kind of quiet to the one at night, less creepy, more slow and magical almost... and he really needs to stop hanging out with Ashton so much, what the fuck, 'magical'?

He sighs, shaking his head at himself as he turns down the ally which leads to the back door of the animal shelter he works at. Yawning widely, he searches his pockets of his coat for the key which he discovers is very much not in his pocket. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” he mutters, hands diving to his jeans as if there was any possibility he could have gotten anything else in them apart from himself, with the tightness of them.

Calum groans when the image of the keys in question flash in his mind, right where he left them on the kitchen counter top.

_nice move, cal, nice move_

His eyes fall on the lock, its an old one, like the kind on your parents shed for the wide chunky brass keys, and he is struck with a brilliant idea. (actually it was pretty stupid, but to a sleepy brain it was practically the equivalent to the answer for world peace.) Kneeling, so he is eye level with the lock in question, Calum extents a single claw, looking around for possible onlookers even though he would be able to hear them coming from the end of the street, before moving to pick the lock.

As it turns out, it's trickier than he thought it would be and after a few minutes Calum's cursing ever movie in existence that made this look easy. There's a shuffling from the dumpster to his right, stood against the wall to the shelter and he quickly removes his hand, standing up as a pale hand reaches up and clings hold of the side.

_great, like this morning could get any worse_

He knows the hand, just like he knows the mop of bright red hair and bright white skin of its owner, who's pushing himself up from the depths of the glorified trash can. Calum couldn't remember exactly when he started to find this odd vampire boy in the shelters dumpster, but he turned up at least once a week, passed out, hungover and stinking of cheap booze. He wouldn't mind and would probably care more, if the guy was just a little nicer.... Maybe.

“Do you mind stopping with the clicking, some people are trying to sleep here.” he grumbles, flashing a glare in the werewolf's direction who returns it with one of his own.

“Well if you didn't sleep in the middle of an ally, that wouldn't be a problem would it.” Calum snaps, returning his attention to the lock, he didn't have time for vampires today, especially rude, drop out ones. The scent of alcohol was already starting to sting his head and he was surprised he hadn't smelt him before he turned the corner like he usually does.

The lock clicks open and Calum's victory smile is quickly killed by a slow drawl behind him. “I'll leave you to your law breaking ways, later dog.” he smirks at the wolf's reply growl, zipping up his hoody and slouching off down the ally.

The smell of alcohol still lingers in his nose though.

Calum hates him. Hates his hair, his voice, his stupid fucking smirk like he has won all the damn time, hates how he still worries in the back of his head if the vampire boy gets home okay. (If he has one at all.) But most of all Calum hates how he knows he wont be able to shake his face from his thoughts for the rest of the morning.

The door of the shelter swings open and he steps inside, greeted by a chorus of mewling and barks, throwing his coat over the hanger by the front desk, muttering “Fucking vampires."

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovelies :) I hope you're all doing well and here is the next chapter, hope you all enjoy! xx

 

Ashton had never felt more out of place in his life. Okay, so maybe he had at some point, but this time was definitely up there in the top five.

There was a reason he had never properly ventured into this particular district of the city before, where the highest, most influential vampire families lived. Huge, wide and perfectly cobbled streets of the biggest and fanciest houses he had ever seen, actually 'houses' was the wrong word entirely, these were mansions. With each having a custom security gate at the entrance and security camera, which followed the movement of Ashton's run down, white van down the street.

_christ even the cameras judge you around here_

He glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand with the address scrawled down on it and sighed. Half an hour he had been driving around for, looking for the place on the delivery information sheet, considering each street had only two massive, fuck off mansions to it, he figured it really shouldn't be this difficult.

Turning down a corner to another street, his hands are starting to sweat against the steering wheel at this point, because they all look the same damnit. But then, right at the end of the street with the trees on either side running up to it like they're framing the gateway, was the most fuck off-iest of all the mansions so far and Ashton's jaw dropped. It had _towers_ for gods sake, legit towers like it was straight out of a gothic novel and the biggest iron gates of them all.

As he drove closer, Ashton saw that they were ridiculously detailed and fancy, and he could feel the artist in himself crying with joy at the beautifully delicate patterns. Sure, vampires may have questionable art choices, but apparently they know how to make a decent gate. After he had stopped oogling, he noticed a familiar sign right in the centre of the twisted iron patterns, the same sign on the pin attach to the lapel of Luke's dad suit.

_of course it'd be the biggest damn house in the city, why wouldn't be_

There was a crackle to his left and bored, monotone voice coming from the intercom on the side of the gate, “Name and business?” they ask, bluntly.

Ashton leans across through the van window, “Um, Ashton Irwin with a delivery for Luke Hemmings.” he replies, there's a long silence which follows and he starts to shift in his seat. In his head, this would be the part in the cartoon where a spring board pops out of the ground, sending Ashton and his van flying across the city and into the sun with a 'ping'.

Before the werewolf could get too caught up with this line of thought, the intercom crackled back into life, “You keep to the main driveway or you will be forcibly removed from the premises.” the voice warns, just as the gate swings open, revealing a long white stoned lane leading up to the house.

“Erm, thanks?” Ashton mutters as the speaker crackles off abruptly, putting the van back in gear and heading down the driveway.

The main door is just as impressive as the rest of the mansion, made of a dark wood and nearly twice as tall as Ashton when he walks up to it, laughing lightly at the simple doorbell that he spots on the side wall. The sound echoes through the house and he can hear the sound of heavy footsteps hitting a hard floor as they rush to answer it, and Ashton is suddenly very much aware at the feeling of his heart beating furiously in his ears.

When the door opens, there's a familiar shock of blonde hair greeting him and he can't help but sigh. The relief must show on his face when Luke's hands fly to his mouth and his eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. And it's actually rather cute, so Ashton doesn't really mind the fact that he covers up the wide smile that had been on his face seconds before.

“Oh my god, I'm sorry I didn't know you would bring it in person, I hope you didn't have too much trouble!” the tall boy rambles, looking around the yard anxiously as if expecting fellow vampires to be hidden in the bushes, ready to pounce on the werewolf.

Ashton just laughs, “No don't worry about it. Your doorman needs to get a few manners though.” he adds, nodding his head in the direction of the gate and watching Luke scowl in response.

“I never liked him much.” he says easily, turning back to the werewolf and smiling brightly, “So, you have something for me?” he asks, and Ashton is hit with the image of a small kid on christmas.

He nods, thumb jerking back towards the van, “Yeah, it's in there. I'll just go get it.” he says, fully expecting Luke to wait by the door as he heads to his van, and being pleasantly surprised when the vampire boy follows behind him.

Throwing open the doors, Ashton smirks when he hears Luke's breath catch in his throat. “Oh it's even nicer than I remember.” he whispers, eyes raking over the painting and for some stupid reason, Ashton finds himself blushing at the attention the blonde is giving his painting.

From the house, he can hear raised voices of a man and a woman and a thought crosses through his mind, “Um, do you think you'll be okay carrying it in?” he asks, and Luke looks at him with confused eyes. “I mean, I would help but I don't think your family would be pleased exactly.” Ashton explains.

Luke snorts, “Good, let them be. This has nothing to do with them, I bought the painting, you're my friend and I want you here.” the vampire huffs, and Ashton can feel himself go wide eyed at how easily the word 'friend' slips from his mouth, “Oh, I'm sorry, unless you feel uncomfortable with it then it's totally fine, I can manage.” he says quickly, all traces of his previous defiant tone gone and replaced with concern, as he misreads the reason for the slightly shocked look on the werewolf's face.

Ashton just blinks at him, this boy is going to give him a headache, trying to work him out and navigate the swing of, rebellious and pure,intense _care_ that he has. “Um, honestly I'd rather stay here, as much fun as it sounds I don't want to be pissing off any high powered vampires today.” he laughs, hand scratching the back of his neck.

Luke smiles his bright as the sun smile, stepping into the back of the van. “It's okay, I can manage on my own any way.” he says, hooking a single finger under the wooden beam on the back of the canvas, lifting it easily. “Vampire, remember.” he winks, and before Ashton can even reply, the blonde boy shoots off into the house, taking the painting with him, so fast even his werewolf eyes have trouble following him.

A minute later and Luke's back by his side, not even a little out of breath, and Ashton whistles lowly. It's not often you see vampires doing actual vampire things like that, especially in front of people they've only really just met. He doesn't know why, maybe it's something to do with how they like to remain aloof and mysterious, not drawing too much attention to themselves, despite knowing that the whole room would be looking at them from the start.

But Luke isn't like that, he's all smiles, his face is practically an open book and Ashton is in complete awe of him.

“Close your mouth, you'll catch flies.” Luke's chuckling, fingers finding the werewolf's chin and pushing his jaw up.

Ashton jumps, not even realising that had happened, “Sorry, I've just never really seen... someone like you do that up close before. It was pretty awesome.” he explains, kicking himself for his lack of 'cool' in that moment.

But the other boy doesn't seem to mind, or notice in fact, “Are you kidding, what you do is awesome, I could never paint as good as you can and you're impressed that I can climb stairs quickly?”

The werewolf snorts, “Please, you should see some of the pieces I've got back at the studio, you'll soon change your mind.”

There's a pause, Luke staring thoughtfully at the other boy before blurting out, “Can I?”

“What?”

“See more of your work?” he asks, and he's looking at Ashton with these big blue eyes and he just doesn't understand how a boy as tall and broad with that jawline, could pull off the cute as fuck puppy face so easily.

Really, he's not exactly left with a choice. “Um, yeah sure. I'm heading back there now if you're free?” he asks, and Luke nods eagerly but then he's gone in a blonde/plaid blur and there's the sound of a car door being closed, with the van is moving ever so slightly a moment later. “You're gonna keep doing that just to mess with me aren't you?” Ashton asks, smirking as he climbs into the drivers seat to see a grinning Luke in the other.

“Yup.”

Ashton shakes his head, starting the van and heading back down the driveway.

 

~

 

Ashton is kicking himself.

He should have known Calum was there before they went into the damn studio, should have been able to smell his scent a mile off, but he was too busy focused on Luke to even _think_ to check. Which is why when they both came through the heavy double doors, there was a low growl from the corner of the room, where Calum was sat with his feet up on a table and a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Ash, I don't mean to alarm you, but a vampire just walked in.” his friend says, barely concealing another growl in his voice as he places his coffee down, standing up and Ashton can already see his claws creep out from his finger tips.

Behind him Luke freezes, worried eyes darting between the two wolves as Ashton holds his hands up between them. “Whoa, Cal it's fine.” he insists.

The other boy only snorts, “ _Fine?_ His kind treat us like shit, but you're saying he's fine!”

“His name is Luke, he's the one from the exhibition, the one I told you about.” Ashton argues, relieved when he see's the fight leave Calum's dark eyes at the mention.

He only really realises what he's said when Luke's voice whispers behind him, “Wait, you talked about me?” and Ashton turns, expecting the vampire boy to be freaked out, maybe having already left faster than when he got into the van. But no, he's looking straight at him, and there's nothing but joy on his face, except perhaps a little disbelief.

He's saved the embarrassment of replying, when Isla floats into the room, dropping to the ground with a soft, “Oh, I wondered what the noise was, why on earth are you two fighting?” she scolds, brandishing her feature duster at the two boys before her bright eyes land on Luke. “And who is this handsome young man?” she asks, and Ashton is sure that, judging from the look on his face, if he could, Luke would be blushing right now.

“This is Luke, the one who bought my painting. He wanted to come and see some other bits.” Ashton explains, while Isla stands there looking rather amused for some reason.

“I completely understand.” she says, leaning around the werewolf to address the blonde boy, “He is rather wonderful isn't he, dear?” she asks, and Ashton can't hold back the splutter that leaves his mouth, shooting a glare at Calum who's chuckling lowly.

“Isla!” he hisses, not even daring to glance back at Luke, right now.

The nymph shrugs innocently, even though she knows by now that Ashton can see right through her. “What, I meant your work of course, silly boy honestly.” she protests, winking before she turns back to Luke. “Make sure he shows you his 'Summer Meadow' works, love, it's my personal favourite.”she tells him, tottering off into the back room again.

Ashton sighs as she leaves, snatching a brush from a nearby table at blindly hurling it in Calum's direction as he's still laughing quietly to himself. The hollow sound that soon follows and a sharp “Ow, you fucker!”, tells Ashton that he made his target. He's smirking to himself when he meets Luke's eyes. “Well, that was Isla, she owns the place and I basically owe her everything.” he explains in a single breath. “So what would you like to see first?”

Luke shrugs, glancing around at all the half finished canvases on the walls and the huge collection of brushes lined up in pots above the messy sink area. “How about those ones Isla mentioned?” he asks, rocking on the balls of his feet, eyes bright and hopeful and it's so fucking endearing.

“S-sure. It's um this way.” Ashton says, motioning to the second door along and moving towards it, seeing Calum do the same.

“What, I want to see as well.” the dark haired boy protests, as his friend casts him a knowing look, like his completely unaware of his own plan to stick by Ashton's side until he's 100% sure that Luke isn't a threat. Werewolves are such stubborn fucks sometimes.

Ashton rolls his eyes, “Of course you do.” he mutters, as Luke chuckles behind him. “C'mon then.”

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Calum is just far too much of a nice guy to hold up on the defensive nature of his wolf for too long, and it's not much time after when Ashton starts half wishing that side would come back.

“Oh, hey Luke, you see that flower there...that one that looks a bit weird compared to the others?” he's saying excitedly, pointing up at the corner of the canvas, while Ashton holds his head in his hands.

Luke finds where the werewolf's pointing, “Yeah, the pink one right? Why?”

“That's an excellent question. Why _is_ the flower different Ash?” Calum preens, unaffected by the death glare being sent his way.

“Because _someone_ thought it would be funny to paint a dick there, when I wasn't looking.” Ashton mutters, making sure to side-eye them both so hard. And he can see Luke trying to muffle his laughter with his hand, and failing spectacularly.

“Oh, that's...that's awful...” he says, little slips of laugher creeping out as he does.

Ashton sighs, “You can laugh if you want you know.” and that's exactly what Luke does. The sound bursting out of him like a shot going off, and Ashton's very glad he's not the only one staring.

Calum is watching the vampire boy, like he had never seen one before. And well, that was partly true, certainly not one like _Luke_ before. “I see what you meant.” he mutters to Ashton, “Fuck this is weird.”

“What's weird?” Luke asks, once he had recovered, wiping a genuine tear from the corner of his eye.

Ashton opens his mouth to brush him off, but before he can Calum's saying, “Seeing a vampire laugh like that.” and Ashton wants to slap him, because Luke physically recoils at the words like they had hit him in the face.

“Oh, sorry...I didn't mean to...”

“It's fine!” Ashton blurts out, not liking the look on the boys face and wishing it would vanish right that second. “It's a good thing, a lovely thing, right Cal?”

“Yeah, of course.” Calum agrees, nodding quickly, “It's just that, Ash was right, you are different. Just like him, I can see why the two of you hit it off.”

And there's a different look of shock on Luke's face now, but it's a nice one so Ashton doesn't mind it at all, especially when it's directed at him. “Yeah I guess we did didn't we?” Luke's saying excitedly, like this was the best thing to happen to him all day.

Ashton nods, “It's just nice to finally meet someone who understood, you know?” he admits, and he swears he can see Luke's hands twitch by his sides, like he was going to reach out for him, but then changed his mind. There's a part of the werewolf that wishes he hadn't.

Then Luke is reaching into his pockets, pulling out his phone and handing it to Ashton, “Here, can we swap numbers? I just know that sometimes I really need to talk with someone, and maybe you do as well?” he asks, and it's the shyest the boy had been so far, like he was genuinely afraid Ashton was going to push him away at this offer.

“Yeah, I'd really like that.” he replies, something inside his chest glowing just as brightly as Luke's face when it lights up at Ashton's words. He takes the phone, plugging his number into it and calling himself so they both have each others.

“Awesome!” Luke grins, accepting his phone back and gazing around the little display room they were stood in. “Isla was right, you really are wonderful...I mean your work is.” he mumbles, eyes cast to his feet as Ashton blushes, knowing that Luke didn't mean it like that but unable to stop his body from reacting that way. “Anyway, I'd better be going, but this was lovely, thank you so much for showing me around.”

“It's no problem, you can come back any time if you like?” Ashton says, practically feeling Calum raise his eye brows behind him and resisting the urge to elbow him in the stomach as the three of them make their way back to the front of the studio.

Luke smiles, “Yeah, I'd like that. Nice to meet you too, Calum.” he adds as they approach the door. Calum, raises a hand nodding politely at the blonde as he opens the door.

“Would you like a lift or-?” Ashton asks, but Luke's already shaking his head.

“Nah, I got this, thanks though. Don't forget to text me some time, yeah.” he says, flashing them a smile, and before either boy can even blink, he's gone.

Calum whistles long and lowly, “How come you get the _nice_ vampire. Like what the fuck is that about?” he grumbles.

But Ashton isn't listening enough to comment on how Luke isn't _his_ vampire, too busy adding the boys number into his contacts, very much aware that he is smiling down at the ' _Luke :)'_ with with far too much fondness on his face.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies!
> 
> Alright so it's like 2:30am so i'll keep this short and just say, here is the next chapter in which the boys are all united and there are strong feelings about cupcake ownership and floury asses. Enjoy!

 

 

“Can you please stop texting your boyfriend for, like, two seconds jesus?

....

Ash?”

“Sorry, Cal, what you say?”

“Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believeable.” Calum mutters, hands running though his hair and gripping it tightly as his elbows land heavily on the table.

Ashton blinks over at his friend, who looks very close to banging his head down on the paint-splattered studio table. “What?” he asks, brush stuck behind his ear and phone in hand.

Calum sighs from his seat on the stool beside the canvas which was half covered in a litany of bright swirls and patterns, it would have more but the artist had been somewhat distracted lately. “Oh nothing, just your constant interaction with a certain blonde _vampire_ boy is setting me on the edge a little.” he says with a casual wave of his hand.

“I thought you didn't mind Luke?” Ashton questions, giving his friend a confused look.

“I don't know, honestly the more I think about it the more odd this whole thing seems.” the dark haired boy says, rolling his eyes when the other werewolf only looks more confused. “Right, it's not that I don't like Luke, it's just that I think this 'friendship' is a bit unhealthy... dangerous even.” he adds.

Ashton scoffs, “Luke's not dangerous. He's sweet and kind and goofy as fuck actually you should have seen -”

“Okay okay, I don't need to hear another 'Luke's amazing and I want to have his metaphorical babies' spew, thanks.” Calum cuts across, ignoring the scowl the other boy sends him. “I just mean that, things like how you have to meet up in places across the city so you don't see anyone his parents know. How you can't touch because they would notice your scent, all this sneaking around, Ash I'm just worried is all.”

“You're being ridiculous.” Ashton mutters, distracted again by the beep of his phone, and Calum wants to grab the damn thing and smash it against the wall.

“I'm being cautious, one of us clearly has to be.” he says, but he knows the other boy isn't listening judging by the smile on his face and the dopey as fuck look in his eyes.

And he isn't at all, not even caring how he looks right now, as he reads the text on his screen.

 

**Luke :) :** _ hey my parents have left for the weekend. fancy coming round for a bit?? _

 

Now, Ashton wouldn't say he was 'giddy' exactly, after all he was a grown ass man (he paid rent and bills and everything!) but he was very, very close to being right at that moment. “I'm going to Luke's house.” he says, taking out the brush from behind his ear and dropping it in the water pot, seeing Calum sit up suddenly out of the corner of his eye. 

“What was that, cos I swear I heard you say that you were going to their lair?” he asks, laughing emptily after. 

Ashton rolls his eyes, going to grab his jacket from the back room only to turn and find Calum following behind him and taking his own, and he stops. “What are you doing?”

“Coming with you, obviously.” the other boy says simply, throwing on his own jacket. “Did you really think I would let you go alone?”

“For gods sake , Cal it's just Luke.” Ashton huffs, pushing past his friend and heading for the door. 

Calum still follows though, “You don't know that, it could be a trap.”

“It's not a trap.” Ashton replies dryly. 

“You could walk in and get ambushed.”

“You're being ridiculous.”

“No, cautious... I thought we covered this already?” 

 

~

 

Ashton had made sure to text ahead, warning the vampire boy of the company and of course he had been completely fine with it, also saying how the gate would be open and to just walk in when they got there. 

(“See, it's too easy! It's a fucking trap!”

“Oh my god, will you stop!”)

Walking down the driveway took a little longer than driving but soon both boys were met with the same huge, doors as Ashton was the last time. Whacking Calum's arm when he wouldn't stop talking about checking the bushes 'for enemies', he rang the doorbell. 

Not ten second later and the door was pulled open suddenly and Ashton saw Calum jump out of shock beside him, but he didn't even think about reacting to his friend, too busy taking in the sight which greeted them. Luke was smiling sheepishly at them, the blue apron which was wrapped around his neck, was covered in flour and what looked like smudges of butter. His face was also decorated with white splatters of flour which stood out even against his already pale skin. 

“Hi, sorry I didn't expect you so fast, thought I'd be done by now.” the vampire boy explains, gesturing to his body, just as the amazing smell of baking cakes hits Ashton's nose. And, judging from the small moan which just slipped past his lips, Calum had picked up on it too.

Luke steps back, inviting them inside and the smell only gets more intense when they do. “I didn't know you baked?” Ashton says, hoping that the amount of fondness that is currently spreading through his body as he watches the blonde boy tighten his apron, doesn't show to obviously in his voice. 

“Just a little, is that weird?” Luke asks, glancing over his shoulder with a slightly worried hint to his eyes, as he brings them through the house to the equally as impressive kitchen, which was just as covered in baking products as the baker himself was. 

Ashton quickly shakes his head, “No, no it's not. You just keep surprising me is all.” he reassures him, and Luke smiles while Calum mimes throwing up behind them. 

“You know, you guys can help me if you like?” he says, holding up a baking tray and a set of cupcake wrappers. 

Ten minutes later and Ashton was certain he had never taken so much care in spooning cupcake mix into paper cases in his life. 

“Um, Ash you know you don't have to have the _exact_ same amount in every one right?” Luke laughs from beside him, a bowl of another batch of mixture tucked under his arm and a spoon in his hand. 

The werewolf blushes, hand pausing over the cakes as he glances up at the grinning boy. “Yeah I know...I just don't want to mess it up.” he says, but then Luke's reaching over, taking Ashton's hand that's holding the little spoon and moving it so the mixture drops off into the case. 

“Don't worry, just bang it in there.” he tells him, breath tickling the back of the smaller boys neck and Luke is so very close and actually _touching_ him, Ashton's whole brain just turns to mush.

There's a snort from Calum, sat on a stool on the other side of the worktop, watching the two with a mix of fascination and wariness. All while keeping away from things baking related. (“Yeah, the only part I'm interested in is the eating part.”) 

“Don't mean to interrupt the happy couple, but I can smell burning.” he points out calmly, nudging his thumb over to the oven.

Luke's eyes grow into huge blue circles and suddenly he's gone, stood by the open oven with black smoke drifting out from it, and holding a tray of partly burnt cupcakes. He slides them onto the side, looking down at their singed tops with a pout. “Well, I guess they're mine then.” he says. 

“Don't be stupid, they'll taste awful.” Ashton argues, as the blonde boy puts the next tray of filled cases in the now smoke-free oven.

“Oh, it's fine. I can't actually taste them that much.” Luke explains with a shrug. “Vampire thing.”

Following this information, Ashton just nods and returns to his mixture spooning, only to hear Calum's voice say, “Wait, so you can't taste  _ anything _ ?” 

And Ashton wants to flick this spoon of mixture at him because  _ damnit cal you can't just 'ask' that! _ But then Luke's chuckling lightly, “Well no, I can taste it's just like most of our human senses, some are heightened like our sight, smell and hearing, but then other things are dulled. So we don't feel pain unless it's super bad like a broken bone, and when we eat food it's taste is barely there, because we don't actually need to eat.” he explains easily.

But Calum is still sat with a confused expression on his face, “So why do you bother with all this then, if you can't really enjoy it?” he prods further, and Ashton has a very strong urge to face plant the bowl of cake mix, but also a weird curiosity as to what the answer is, because actually...Calum had a point. 

“Because I like it.” Luke says simply, “It's kinda relaxing you know?And I like to take them down to the blood bank when I go to them.”

Ashton watches as his friend seizes up at the words 'blood bank' and he's worried that, like most of their kind, the other werewolf is jumping to the wrong conclusion. “Why?” he asks quickly, before Calum can say any more. “Why do you do that?”

Luke pauses, pulling himself up so he's sat on the work top. “Because they're always really happy with them, and I feel like I owe them. It's not exactly legal what they do, providing stored blood bags for those of us who wont drink directly from humans, and they wont except payment so I bring cupcakes.”

Just as Ashton thinks he's about to physically combust from both the image of Luke handing out cupcakes from a little box with a bow, and the knowledge that he doesn't actually drink from humans – he doesn't kill anyone – there's a loud yell from the hallway. 

“Oy, Hemmings where you at!?” and for the second time that day, Luke's eyes look like saucers, jumping off the counter as a boy with bright red hair walks into the kitchen. “Why the hell does it smell like d-” The boy freezes in the door way, green eyes flicking between the two werewolves. 

Luke steps forward cautiously, around the counter and in front of Ashton, blocking him from view. (the werewolf doesn't know if it was intentional or not but it make's his heart jump anyway) “Look, Michael they're okay. They're not-”

“What that fuck is _he_ doing here?” the new vampire demands, stabbing his finger in Calum's direction, who is sat wide eyed and open mouthed, staring at the red head. 

Both Luke and Ashton's attention flickered between their two friends who were eyeing daggers at each other from across the kitchen. “Um...do you two know each other?” Luke asks, hesitantly.

“A little.” Calum growls, lowly. 

Just as Michael snorts, “No.”

Both boys huff loudly, Calum turning away and crossing his arms over his chest. “I always find this one, curled up inside the damn dump-”

“Why don't you shut up, yeah.” the vampire hisses, taking a heated step towards the werewolf, causing Calum to jump to his feet, snarling as his teeth elongate, his claws start to appear and Luke to dive for his friend's arm. 

“Hey, hey, hey come on...Mikey what the hell has got into you?” Ashton hears him asks, under his breath, so he figure's this is just as unusual behaviour from the other vampire as it is from Calum. Sure he's seen him defensive before, but never like this. 

“Maybe we should go?” he suggests and both the vampire's turn to look at him. 

“No!” Luke says instantly, hand flying out before he catches himself, drawing back and dropping his eyes to the floor. “I mean, I actually wanted to show you something, if that was alright.” Michael make a sound between a huff and a laugh, muttering something so lowly under his breath that even Ashton's ears can't pick it up. What ever it was Luke swats at him, “Shut up, Michael.”

Glancing over, Ashton could see Calum shuffling on his feet, but his teeth and claws were back to normal. So he didn't feel as worried that the two boys may rip each other limb from limb if they left the room. “Sure, that's cool, lead on Lucas.” he says with a wink making the taller boy smile and both Michael and Calum groan at them, before catching each others gaze and turning away from one another. 

Luke sighs at their friends, waving at Ashton to follow him up the stairs and along possibly the longest landing the werewolf had ever seen, before they head into a room right at the end. It doesn't take more than a quick look at the poster covered walls and the bright, mis matched furniture for Ashton to figure out that this was Luke's room. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the house and he thought it mirrored the boy's rebellious nature perfectly. 

He whistles lowly, “Man I bet your parents love it in here.” 

Luke laughs, “Well they don't actually come in here any more, so I guess the point of it is lost now, but hey it did it's job.” he notes, holding his arms wide and spinning on the spot. 

It's then when Ashton spots the white print of flour that has clung to the vampire boy's dark jeans, right over his ass when he had sat on the counter top. And it's only when Luke calls his name does Ashton realise he had been openly oogling the boys (really rather nice) ass. 

“Oh, I wasn't-!” he stutters, as Luke raises his eye brows, “I didn't mean...you have flour on your erm...jeans.” he points out. 

Luke mouth falls open into an 'O' with the realisation, hands moving to pat away the offending flour, and then to Ashton's complete and utter horror, he turns back around and asks, “Did I get it?”

And Ashton wants to scream because, no. No he didn't get all of it, there still was a taunting patch left at the bottom of the right pocket. “Bit in the corner still.” he says, this time looking away while Luke swats the marks away, his eyes landing on a very familiar sight. “Hey, that's my painting.”

Luke looks up, flour-free and smiling, “Yeah, that's what I wanted to show you.” he says, coming to stand closer to Ashton by the painting. It's positioned right in the middle of the wall, surrounded by other pieces, all happy and all different in some way from the other, but the selection as a whole works really well. 

“It looks really good there, the whole wall looks great actually.” he says appreciatively, nudging Luke's arm with his elbow.

The blonde boy grins, and was just about to open his mouth when there is a crash from downstairs, followed by yelling. Eyes widening, both boys lock gazes for a moment before racing out of the room, Luke darting ahead in a blur after Ashton gives him the go ahead. 

He re-enters the kitchen to yells from both Michael and Calum, both back to glaring at one another but this time with strips of blue and purple icing decorating their shirts. 

“It was my damn cake, you dick!” Michael shouts, picking blue icing from his hair. 

Calum's got a hand on his neck, trying to wipe away the purple streaks of the stuff from his skin, but only really managing to smush it in further. “No, we agreed on three each and you had already had yours, that one was mine!” he argues, pointing to the remnants of cupcake on the counter top. 

“I mess one up, I needed another.” the vampire boy says, and Ashton can't actually believe he's stood here, watching his best friend fight with a red haired vampire, both covered in icing, over _cupcakes_. Neither can Luke if the bewildered look he gives him once he enters the room is anything to go by.

Just as Calum opens his mouth to make his, what Ashton is sure to be a very mature and non-childlike come back, the other boy cuts him off. “Cal, maybe it's time to go yeah?” he suggests, pointedly. 

The younger werewolf huffs, “Fine.” knocking shoulders with Michael, who hisses, as he passes him on the way out of the kitchen. 

Ashton offers Luke a apologetic glance, “Sorry about him, he's usually much friendlier.” he tries to laughs, hand finding the back of his neck, anxiously. 

“So is Michael, I don't want you to think he's a dick, because he's actually really lovely, I don't know what the hell is going on with them.” Luke agrees, eyes almost pleading in his defence of his friend. 

“It's okay, I believe you.” Ashton laughs, “But I'd better go and catch, Cal so talk later yeah?” he says, and without even thinking he's wrapping his arms around the vampire boy's shoulders, feeling his chin hook over Ashton's shoulder and his breath hitch slightly as their chest press together. “You're cold.” he chuckles when they pull away. 

Luke shrugs, “Vampire thing.” he says, repeating his earlier words with a smirk. “You're really warm, christ that was like hugging a furnace.”

This time Ashton shrugs, “Werewolf thing.” he mimics with a wink as he starts backing up towards the door. “You going to be okay, cleaning up cos I can always-”

“It's fine, Ash I'll get Mikey help me.” Luke insists, the other vampire making an indignant “Hey!” from the other side of the room.

“Alright, see you around, Luke.” Ashton calls, jogging out of the house and leaving the blonde boy turning to his friend. 

“Michael. What the fuck was that about?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really need to start with the smaller waits between chapters, this is ridiculous! 
> 
> but hi, how are you all...just a heads up, this chapter highly reflects my need for cuddles right now and so i apologies before hand :S also that lashton moment (after all these years!!) got me feeling some things so that's also to blame...so yup that's all for this time on with the fic!

 

Calum wasn’t exactly sure when he had become to expect to find the red haired vampire climbing out of the dumpster, on an almost weekly basis. And he certainly didn’t expect to notice when he doesn’t see the boy for a good two weeks straight.

Not that he thinks about it of course, when another week passes without hide nor brightly coloured hair of the hungover boy, Calum definitely isn’t weirdly concerned about it for the rest of the day. He hates the vampire, he knew he did and that meeting at Luke's house the other week had only proved the fact that this 'Michael' kid hated him too.

Calum chose to ignore how this fact didn't exactly make him feel as relieved about the situation as he thought it would. But at least he didn't have to worry about being too harsh during their little meetings now, especially when the other boy seemed to have no problem with this at all. There's a pained lurch in his gut when he thinks of the hardened look to those bright green eyes, as they stared him down in that stupidly fancy ass kitchen.

Like most things to do with 'The Michael Problem', Calum ignores it. If he's lucky, he'll never have the misfortune to ever set eyes on that mop of red hair ever again, he thinks as he rounds the corner of the last street to work, just as the familiar smell of booze and 'vampire' hits his nose.

There's a strong urge to just turn on his heel and go back home, he really can't be arsed with this shit today, the full moons coming up next week and he's already feeling a little edgy because of it, a moody hungover vampire is not what he needs. Sure enough, once he turns down the ally, there's already a rustling noise coming from the dumpster and Calum feels his body tense up in preparation for what ever sassy comment he'll have thrown his way, that'll no doubt have his blood boiling in seconds.

Michael emerges, springing lightly to the ground with an unnatural silence which doesn't exactly settle the werewolf's nerves, and a grace which no hungover person should possess. Evidently, the vampire boy isn't in the mood for what ever they can call their little chats, if the loud scoff he gives once he sees Calum, stood at the end of the ally, are anything to go by.

Neither one says anything to the other, Michael continuing to glare at him while he dusts off his clothes, shoving past Calum on his way past. Their shoulders knocking together, even though there is plenty enough room for a person to pass either side of the werewolf. But Calum can't even bring himself to make a warning growl, too busy focusing on keeping his gaze locked with the others in the silent 'stare off' which had seemed to spring up between them.

(and if in that time his brain kindly pointed out that Michael's eyes didn't seem nearly as bright as they did that days in the kitchen – in fact he can't remember them like that at any point in the ally – then Calum ignored it. It's what he did best after all.)

~

After the incident, Calum assumes that he is safe from any further encounters for another week or so at least. Which is why the werewolf boy is more than a little surprised to see the same boy climbing from the same dumpster he was laying in not two days before.

It was odd for Calum to see him twice in one week, and he can't help but notice how the stench of alcohol clings to Michael's clothes, or the large empty bottle which is clutched between his fingers, a few drops of golden liquid still swirling about in the bottom. Calum hates the pang of concern which passes through him, before he can even think to stop it.

He must have been staring a little too long, as the next thing he hears is a quiet but harsh snort, “Enjoying the view?” Michael laughs, and the other boy notices how he sways slightly where he's stood.

_great, he's still pissed_

Calum rolls his eyes, not even bothering with a reply, he doubts Michael would remember it anyway, and moves to unlock the door to the shelter, hoping that the other boy would just leave like always. Of course, he has no such luck. “Ah, c'mon don't act like you're not glad to see me.” Michael slurs and Calum's hand tightens around the door handle.

There is the sound of shuffling footsteps behind him and Calum has never liked having his back turned much, still doesn't judging by the shiver which shoots up his spine, and makes him swirl around on his heel.

“Why are you even here?” he demands of the slightly wide-eyed vampire, “Seriously, Malcolm, Matt, Miguel, Mitochondria, what ever the hell your name is -” _michael, you fucking child, he's called michael,_ “- why the hell that out of every single damn ally in the city, your drunken ass always ends up in this one?”

For a spilt second, Calum swears he sees a flash of hurt cross Michael's face, before he's laughing, but it's low and hollow and for some reason the werewolf boy doesn't get the impression it is directed at him. “Well, it's not to see your pretty face trust me.” he mutters, flinging the empty bottle into the dumpster he just climbed out of.

Calum pushes down the sudden swell of disappointment which surfaces inside his chest at the words, inside he follows the path of the bottle with his eyes while Michael starts shuffling away. “You know you shouldn't do that?” he blurts out, kicking himself when the vampire stops, turning back instead.

“And what is that exactly?” he asks, in bored tone.

“Drink your problems away.” Calum sighs, pointing at the dumpster so he doesn't register how Michael's expression turns stoney at his words. “Like, it's just selfish...don't you think how worried you must make people, your friends, your family...hell does you mum even know where you go every-”

Calum doesn't even get the last words out of his mouth, before he's got a solid brick wall pressed against his back, and an equally solid, but much much angrier Michael against his front. “Shut the fuck up, _dog!_ ” he hisses, pale arm wedged up to Calum's throat and drink layered breath in his face. “What the hell do you know about my life, huh? Nothing! So just piss off, already.”

The werewolf boy doesn't move, more out of shock than anything, he knows that he could get out of the hold in a heartbeat if he needed to. It was more the pure, dangerous anger which had taken over Michael's face, it was so different to the cocky, self assured arrogance he was used to seeing. And Calum didn't think he'd ever want to see that side of the boy again, but right now he would much prefer being sassed at if it meant Michael wasn't so angry.

Before he can even get another word it, Michael's releasing him and storming off out of the ally in a blur of black and red. Leaving a very confused Calum slumped against the wall with a bunched up collar and one thought on his mind.

_the fuck was that about?_

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


The last thing that Luke expects to happen when he walks into the art studio one morning, is to nearly be decapitated by a flying nymph.

It wasn't often they saw Isla with her wings out and actually behaving like a...well, like a nymph, and Luke was a bit sad about it. He thought Isla's wings were beautiful, they weren't wings exactly and more like colourful versions of light. The kind that you see on a bright morning when the sun creeps through the cracks of the curtains, and you see the dust floating around in the air.

Luke was pretty sure he could watch Isla's rainbow-like versions for hours and still find new colours in them. Of course, that would mean she would have to stay still, something which obviously wasn't going to happen today.

“Oh, sweetheart I'm so sorry!” she says, rushing back down towards him with an armful of paint pots and brushes, as Luke straightens himself back up to full heigh,t after ducking to avoid a possible concussion via speeding nymph.

He fondly waves off Isla's fussing, hand shooting out to catch a pot which tumbles from her arms, “It's alright, I'm alive.” he jokes, quickly glancing around the studio, “Is Ashton, not here?” he asks, seeing no sign of the wolf boy around.

Isla makes a little tittering sound in the back of her throat, “Oh, no he isn't, I sent him home. Honestly I know it can't be easy, but I've seen women handle their time of the month better than that boy does.” she says, with a roll of her eyes, dropping the pots into the sink with a clatter, not noticing the completely confused expression on the young boy's face.

“His, um...time of the month?” Luke asks, hesitantly very thankful that he lacks the ability to blush, because he's pretty sure his whole face would be a picture or reds and pinks right now.

The old nymph blinks at him for a moment, before he sees the realisation hit her. “Oh, the full moon, dear. It's this week, he always gets such a grumpy head on leading up to it, he's a nightmare.” Isla explains.

Luke's mouth forms an 'O' in his understanding, before the disappointment settles in his chest. “Oh, well I wont bother you then. See you, Isla.” he mutters, unable to keep the depressed note out of his voice.

Isla must pick up on it, since she floats back down, hand catching the boy's shoulder before he can shoot off. “He should be at home if you want to see him, I could give you the address.” she tells him kindly, a tiny finger darting to cover Luke's lips as he makes a unsure sound in reply, the nymph fixes him with a look which is the perfect mix of firm and fond. “I know he would be more than happy to see you too.” she adds, with a wink.

~

That's how Luke found himself outside of what could possible be classed as a glorified shed.

The only indication that he might have the right place, is the fact that it was on a street filled of other glorified sheds, which made Luke suspect that they were actually houses. That and how the front door had been painted with what had to be the prettiest set of doodles he had ever laid his eyes on.

Yeah, this was Ashton's house.

Luke smiled like an idiot at the honest to god _bell_ that hung from the top of the door frame, hearing the rustling of footsteps which followed the high dinging sound it made. The door opens and reveals a sweatpants-wearing, bed-headed, five-sizes-too-big-jumper-supporting, tired-as-shit looking Ashton, who blinks up at the vampire boy stood on his front step.

“Um, is this a bad time?” Luke asks, tugging his lip ring into his mouth, nervously.

Ashton's face breaks out into a wide smile, looking the picture of a kid on christmas as he pulls the door open further, stepping back to let Luke inside. “Oh no, no of course not. Shit, I just wasn't expecting anyone is all.” he insists, “I'm literally just sat around watching shitty tv and consuming nachos by the mountain load, it's nothing exiting.” he trails off, waving his arms around aimlessly so the sleeves of his sweater fall over his hands, raising the cute level significantly.

“Sounds perfect.” Luke grins, toeing off his shoes and placing them to the side, before following Ashton through to his tiny living room. The walls were painted a bright yellow and somehow made the little room look much bigger, with most of the space taken up by the well worn couch which was pressed against the wall, a equally battered coffee table, painted a pale blue and laden with various packets of snacks and coffee cups, sitting in front of it.

Ashton darts around, grabbing random empty packets and mugs, “Sorry, I should have cleared up, I didn't-” he mutters, gesturing for Luke to sit on the couch.

But the blonde puts a hand on Ashton's shoulder, making the werewolf boy stop in his frantic attempt at cleaning. “Ash, it's fine. I should have called first, it's my fault.” he says, in a calm, slow voice.

The heat of the touch is like a log fire in the winter, Luke just wants to curl up in it. Then the other boy is calming down, and he can feel the change in him, as the waves of heat radiating from his body become less intense with each passing second. “See? Now, those nachos aren't gonna eat themselves.” Luke winks, dropping down onto the couch.

Ashton's blinking down at him, a somewhat awe struck look on his face, which Luke thinks makes him look as if he's been recently smacked square on with a shovel. He never knows quite what causes it, but it never fails to put a flutter in his stomach. “I hope you like _Catfish_ , cos that's what we're watching.” the werewolf boy smiles, snapping out of his trance and barrelling down beside Luke on the couch, bag of nachos in hand as he offers them to the blonde.

That's how the rest of the afternoon is passed, with a worryingly large amount of snacks and the most reality tv Luke had ever watched in his life. But then he also couldn't think of another afternoon which had been as perfect as this one, he felt like he would actually float away with happiness.

Then Ashton just had to hug him so tightly, pulling Luke right to him, face buried in the vampire boy's neck and he could feel the other boys breath tickling the hairs at the back of his head. And Luke thought he was going to combust right then and there.

_he even smells like sunshine_

“I'm really glad you visited, Luke.” Ashton murmurs against his skin and Luke has to repress a shudder. “It's so much nicer when you're here.” he adds, even quieter and the taller boy is left wondering if he was even meant to hear it.

But it does make him realise something. Ashton was lonely. And Luke left the house with a determination to change that.

~

That determination came in the form of cupcake, lots and lots of cupcakes. Which may have involved a whole lot of hours in the kitchen once Luke had got home, but the look on Ashton's face when he opened the door to see the taller boy standing there, holding out the tub of cakes like a offering to a god, it was worth it.

“I come baring gifts!” he declares, making the werewolf giggle.

_oh totally worth it_

This day was the one before the full moon and Luke didn't know if that was the reason, or I if it was just the sugar rush from the heavily iced cupcakes that made Ashton unable to sit still. “I just feel inspired!” he yells, arms flung wide as he spins around the tiny front room, “Don't you feel inspired , Luke!”

The blonde boy shakes his head fondly, “Yeah, so inspired right now.” he says, waving the three pages of essay he was currently writing in the air.

“You need coffee!” Ashton decides, dashing off into the kitchen before Luke could stop him, calling “Coffee always helps.” behind him as he goes.

“I think you've had enough!” Luke tells him, wondering if the fondness in his voice will ever leave it when he's around the other boy.

The crash comes a few hours later, the tv is off with what according to Ashton is his 'chill playlist' playing softly in the background. Luke still hasn't finished the essay and should really be panicking more than he is, but it's pretty hard to get worked up when you have Ashton sat opposite you on the couch, sketch book propped on his knee and his feet tucked under Luke's thighs.

It was becoming worrying how often Luke would catch himself staring at the curly haired boy, watching the concentration on his face as his hands worked over the page. He could probably sit and watch him forever. Screw the essay, he didn't need school, that was what he wanted to do for the rest of his extended life.

Only when those hazel eyes flickered up from the page, did he quickly turn back to the page of writing he hadn't touched in about half an hour now. Luke tried to concentrate, he really did, all he needed was a conclusion it wasn't that hard. But all he could feel was the heavy gaze of the gorgeous boy opposite him, not leaving or wavering for a second. It was a good think Luke didn't need to breath because he didn't think he had for all of the few minutes Ashton had been watching him.

“What?” he laughs, once he looks up and meets the boy's eyes before he glances back at the sketch pad, much like Luke had done.

“Nothing, sorry...dozed off for a second.” Ashton mumbles, frowning deeply at the page in front of him.

Luke watches him for a moment longer, tuning in to the sound of the pencil smoothing over the paper, the steady thump of the wolf's heartbeat. “What is it that you're drawing exactly?” he asks, trying to crane his head up a little to see over the tilted pad, but Ashton just pulls it slightly closer to his chest.

“Nothing, just something stupid.” Ashton says, casually waving him off.

Luke frowns, usually Ashton couldn't wait to show him what he was working on, not that he minded in the slightest. In fact it was one of his favourite things, watching Ashton's blinding smile as he tugged Luke over to where his next project was stood, always asking him what he thought of it. It was ridiculous but it made him feel...special.

~

The day of a full moon, Luke quickly decided within five minutes of entering the werewolf's house, was his new favourite day. There was one reason and one reason alone for this conclusion, and that reason was:

Cuddly Ashton.

He remembers reading somewhere at how, the closer the full moon, the more the animal side of the werewolves start to show. It just so happened that in Ashton's case, it was not so much a wolf, but more of a very needy puppy apparently.

Luke hadn't even made it up the front path before the front door was being swung open, revealing a slightly flushed Ashton, taking the vampire completely by surprise. “I could...um...I could smell you.” the werewolf mutters bashfully, eyes trained on the ground and a hand playing with the hair on the back of his head.

And all that is going through Luke's mind is how that has never been a good thing before, always been one of the things which the two kinds pick at each other for, and so his reaction is to immediately go, “Oh, er sorry about that.” assuming that Ashton was complaining.

Which, apparently was the wrong conclusion all together, since the smaller boy had darted forward, eyes wide, “No, I actually...um like it...it's _you_...the smell that is. Oh god I'm just going to stop talking now.” he groans, hand slapping to his face and dragging down, while Luke laughed, trying to hide just how much his chest felt like it was about to explode.

From the moment he sat down, Luke could tell something was 'off' with the other boy. He was curled up on himself on the other side of the couch, arms wrapped around himself as he watched the blonde boy flick through his Netflix to find a movie for them to watch. There was a look on his face, like he was unsure about something, the internal battle which seemed to be going on inside of him, showing in his features.

Luke doesn't think just how he knows what to do, how it's more on instinct that he nudges Ashton's thigh with his foot and opens his arms out wide and invitingly. If it was possible to bottle the smile which spread across Ashton's face before he shuffled in closer to Luke's side, arms wrapping around the vampire boy's middle, then you would have the cure to all diseases.

There's a side effect which comes with cuddling with Ashton, as Luke soon discovers halfway through the movie they had put on, and that is you are stuck with a stupid ass grin on your face for the entirety of the cuddle contact. He's not even thinking at how he's probably going to have to burn these clothes since he'll never get the smell out of them when he goes home, if he ever does and doesn't just stay here until Ashton moves away.

At some point Luke's fingers move to start threading through the smaller boy's hair, and Ashton shuffles closer, a contented sigh passing his lips as he buries his head further into Luke's chest. And it's really not fair just how _gone_ Luke is for this boy, had been from the moment he saw him standing there in that art convention all those weeks ago.

The titles start to roll up on the screen but neither boy goes to move, the steady rise and fall of Ashton's chest make Luke think that the cuddly boy had actually fallen asleep on him, and his fingers pause in their playing of his hair, as he goes to lean forward to check. But Ashton's already moving, spurred by the loss of Luke's fingers in his hair, his chin resting on the vampire's chest as he looks up and the other boy feels his breath catch in his throat.

_holy fuck_

He knew that Ashton had pretty eyes, he had been _very_ aware of that since the first time he saw them. But he wasn't prepared for what he sees right in front of him. The werewolf's eyes were _glowing_ , not in a cheesy, stereotypical supernatural way, it was more subtle than that. There was an emerald hint to the outsides, stronger along the edges as it faded out towards the pupil, it was like looking a gem stones with a light cast behind them.

Luke had heard of this, when a werewolf had a strong emotion, usually anger was used as an example, another attempt to brainwash the vampire community into thinking the worse of the other kind, it would be reflected in their eyes. But Ashton didn't look especially angry now, in fact it was quite the opposite.

“What's wrong, you're staring?” Ashton asks, jolting Luke out of his thoughts.

“Nothing, just...your eyes-”

The curly haired boy, looks away at the mention of his eyes, and much too Luke's distress tries to move away. “Sorry, it's a werewolf thing. I know it's weird.” he mutters, his hands coming up to hide his face, rubbing at his eyes as if it would make them go back to normal.

Luke frowns, moving to bring Ashton's hands away, holding them in his own and tilting his face up with the other, “I like it.” he tells him, smiling as the intensity of the emerald green grows after his words, like Ashton's eyes are agreeing with him.

There's a car alarm which goes off outside, making the pair break the contact between them and look out towards the window, where they could see that the sun has already set. “I should probably head out.” Ashton sighs, getting up off the couch and Luke, who immediately misses the heat of the boy currently grabbing his shoes off the floor.

“Where do you go to, you know, do your thing?” he asks, rather lamely in his view, but Ashton laughs anyway.

“I have a lock-up on the outskirts of town, bout a ten minute drive away.” he tells him, scooping the car keys off the side as both boys head for the door.

Luke waits until Ashton is at the the car to ask, “Do you want me to come with you or anything?”

The werewolf smiles up at him but shakes his head, “It's not exactly pretty, Lukey. Might scare you off.” he says it as a joke, but Luke can see the genuine fear of it behind his expression, and before he has time to question it, he's been pulled in to another hug, and maybe, just maybe if he holds on tight enough, Ashton would _have_ to take him with him.

But that doesn't happen, and there's a muttered “Thanks for everything these past few days, really means a lot, you know?” and Luke just clings that little bit tighter, hand fisting the the scratty hoodie which Ashton had thrown on before he left.

“No problem, I'm always here.”

~

That night, Luke doesn't sleep.

His head filled with nothing but the curly haired sunshine boy and his ears tuned in to every howl which filled the quiet night air, wondering every time if maybe that was Ashton. His hand clutching the shirt he had been wearing all that day, tightly under the pillow the scent of the werewolf still clinging to the material.

And it wasn't anything close to actually having Ashton there with him, but it was close enough for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love and many many cuddles to you all, you gorgeous things...yes you, damn you look so fine today! ;) xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo!
> 
> Okay, so ironically enough on this day of complete and utter lashton love, I bring you just about 2,700 words of malum *shrugs* but it is vaguely smutty malum, so yeah.....

 

Calum hates the morning after the full moon.

Waking up naked and cold, on a hard stone floor with a banging headache and in desperate need of a shower. And he didn't even get to be a little bit drunk, it all seemed rather unfair if you asked him.

Naturally, the last thing he wanted to happen was to have a phone call at 9am from his work, calling him in. So, naturally what else was going to happen.

“Calum, mate I'm so sorry to do this, especially this morning.” Steve, the owner of the shelter said down the phone, to a very sleepy, very achy Calum. “But we got an emergency call in and I'm out of town, the guy sounded pretty concerned to be honest. You know I would go if I could, I-”

“Steve, it's cool, no worries.” Calum tells him, somewhat glad that he hadn't been able to fully appreciate the half and hour he had spend in an actual bed. He grabs some jeans off the floor and a flannel shirt, before dropping it again once his arm gets caught in a huge hole ripped down the side.

He sighs, casting the shirt into the corner where his other ruined ones where piled up. You would think that after years of transforming, he would remember to put his clothes in a better place. It was getting ridiculous and he was sick of spending his wages on new shirts every few months.

Looking quickly in the mirror and frowning at the ruffled mess that is his hair, Calum asks “Where is the place again?” as he finds a beanie on the side, grabs his bag and keys, heading out the door.

 

~

 

It was a good thing Calum loved his job. Otherwise he would be far _far_ more annoyed at making his way down to a creepy ass cemetery, at stupid o'clock in the morning. Apparently, the guy who called in was a grounds keeper bloke, a job which Calum couldn't exactly say he would be jumping through hoops to get. The whole thing sounded pretty creepy if you asked him. 

Steve had told him that there would be a small office building by the entrance, which he should check in to when he got there. Which there was, just as he expected, although the thumping sound of music coming from inside it was a bit of a surprise. Calum knocked on the door, but there was no answer and the music continued...it wasn't even  _bad_ and the werewolf would have appreciated it more if it wasn't for the earliness of the morning, and the nagging feeling in the back of his head. 

It wasn't unheard of, for werewolf's to feel uneasy around heavy spiritual places. In fact many people said that they often had a sort of sixth sense, with most of the psychics often had connections to werewolves in their bloodline, or were in fact wolves themselves. 

Calum's mum always said he never liked visiting the graveyards when he was younger, always saying how he felt someone watching. He remembers that part well enough, but she never mentioned how it would sometimes be like the wind was stroking his face of how there were sometimes whispers from behind the stones. Something tells him that he never told her those particular parts. 

After three knocks Calum gives up, thinking he can always try again on the way back. According to Steve, the caller said that the fox which was stuck, was trapped in a wire fence at the back of the cemetery. Sure enough, when he gets there there's a shock of dirty orange fur standing out against the cold, frost covered woods which sit at the back of the grave yard. 

It's making pained little noises, Calum is reminded of a cat, a little ironically. He approaches slowly, not wanting to scare it, but the fox freezes, huge dark eyes wide and watching him before it makes a frantic attempt at escape. It's leg is caught between two strands of barbed wire, the harsh metal twists ripping into the poor things leg, and Calum winces as the struggling movements only make it worse. 

Eventually, he manages to calm her down and makes sure not to hurt her further when he untangles her leg from the trap of wire. Digging around in his bag, he finds tiny bandages and a small splint which he straps up the fox's leg up with. She must be in pain, he thinks when she doesn't even fight him when he places her in the veterinary cage. It'll be a few weeks before she'll be ready to go back out there, in the mean time Calum make a mental note to tell the guy at the office to think about getting the fence fixed. 

The music has died down by the time Calum makes his way back to the office building, the injury fox safely locked inside the cage, with it's leg strapped up tightly. He tries knocking again, knowing that he has to let them know somehow that the job has been done and seen to. A sigh of relief passes between his lips as he hears footsteps heading for the door, his mind already wandering back to his warm inviting bed back home as the door opens. 

When Calum sees just who is stood behind it, all thoughts of his unmade bed go flying from his head. 

_this is it_

_the best moment of my life right here_

_oh i going to have so much fun with this_

“Don't even say it!” Michael snaps, hand whipping out in front of him and finger pointing at Calum in warning. “Don't fucking say it.”

And all the werewolf wants to do is dance or sing, maybe even do a back flip or two, just something to express the joy spreading through his body at the terrified look on the vampire boy's face. “This is precious. This is too damn good.” Calum laughs, putting the animal cage down on the floor, so he has a hand free to cover his mouth.

Michael continues to stand there, unnaturally still with an icy glint to his eye as he stares the laughing boy down. “Do those come in wolf sized, cos I really want to shove you in one right about fucking now.” he hisses, pointing at the veterinary cage.

But even that can't stop the laughter rocking through Calum's body. “The vampire....w-works in a graveyard.” he says, “Oh this is perfect, the irony just might kill me.”

“Shut up.”

“Please tell me they get you to work the graveyard shift?”

“Shut. Up.”

The low, dangerous tone to Michael's voice told Calum that he should probably stop there, but he couldn't, didn't think he could even if he wanted to. There was a thrill he got from it all, seeing the way the other boy's jaw muscle twitched, the steely hint to his eyes which grew with every other word that left Calum's mouth. Now he knew why the other boy was such a smart arse all the damn time, it was like a kind of weird power.

And now Calum finally had the upper hand.

“Well I guess it's okay if you get tired, got plenty of coffins laying around.” he continues, a thrill of excitement running down his spine at the sight of Michael's fist clenching at his side.

The vampire can't deal with loosing very well, the feeling of someone getting one better than him, and he especially doesn't like the so freaking over joyed look on the wolf's face. He wants him to shut up. _Needs_ him to shut up...before that small part of him that's saying how cute he looks, gets any louder. That part of Michael's subconscious can shut right up as well.

And Calum is still laughing like this is the funniest thing in the whole damn world, eyes clenched shut making sure the tears building up in them don't spill over. So he doesn't see Michael's hand shoot forward, fingers bunching up in Calum's shirt and pulling him into the office. The whole action doesn't register in the werewolf's brain, until his back's hitting the solid wooden door and, for the second time in two weeks he has a face full of pissed off Michael.

“Shut up!” he spits, nose to nose with the younger boy.

It's almost as if the tension which had sprung up in the air was touchable, building and building until Calum sneers, “Yeah, why don't you make me, Ice Queen?” and it's entirely possible that they hear the heavy tension snap in that second after.

Suddenly, there are a pair of cold hands wrapping around his wrists, pinning his arms above his head and a pair of equally cold lips pressing against Calum's own.

Michael got his wish, Calum definitely shut up at that.

The room is filled with nothing but the beat of the music, the huff of their heavy breathing and occasional sound of their teeth clanking together. It wasn't a kiss, not really, more of a collision of lips and tongue and teeth, each boy trying to get one up over the other.

“God you're fucking annoying.” Michael growls once they break apart, only getting a second to appreciate the shell shocked look on Calum's face before the smirk is back.

And Michael doesn't find that sexy in the slightest, he doesn't.

“What's the matter, Ice Queen?” he asks, panting slightly, the heat of his body burning through his shirt, where his chest is pressed against the other boy's. “Don't like it when others don't just take your mouthing off?”

The growl he gets in response should make him back down, definitely not make the most delicious wave of lust wash over Calum's skin. “I hate you.” Michael sneers, diving back in to claim the werewolf's lips before he can make a smart ass come back. “I fucking hate you.”

Calum huffs out a breath, the closest to a laugh he could get whilst taking the vampire's bottom lip between his teeth and nipping. “Good...because I fucking hate _you.”_ he manages to get out, and their back to biting, pulling and pressing even harder, like they're trying to hurt each other. “I don't...I don't think I've hated someone as much as you...in my whole life.”

The hands around his wrist tighten as Michael's fangs descend and scrape along Calum's jaw, his head rolling back against the door and a flood of frustration as his hip buck into the vampire's at the feeling. The only thing keeping him from hating himself for his body's reaction, was the small moan that slips from Michael's lips at the contact.

Calum smirks and Michael must see him because there's a change in his eyes, which have now become much darker than when this whole thing started. The werewolf bites down on his lip as the red head repeats the movement, ignoring the thrilling pleasure that sweeps through his body, knowing full well what the other boy is doing, and refusing to let him win.

The arms still pinned above his head are starting to tingle with the lack of blood, which is currently busy rushing to other, more southern places, much to Calum's annoyance and Michael's apparent joy. “Bet you're gonna hate me even more when you come in your pants because of me.” the vampire states, arrogantly raising an eyebrow and smirking.

_oh, okay so he wants to play that game_

There's no warning given for when Calum pushes off from the door with his hips, breaking from the cool hold and quickly switching their positions in the blink of an eye. He doesn't even give Michael any time to properly react other than a sharp intake of breath, which acts as a poor disguise of a moan, when the werewolf latches on to his ear lobe as he grinds against the pale boy.

“Not as much as you're going to hate yourself when _I...”_ he pauses to swirl his tongue against the boy's ear, smirking as he feels his knees buckle under him. “make _you_ come.” Calum finishes.

Michael's only response is to grab the younger boy's ass, pulling them closer together so their foreheads nearly clash as he attacks Calum's mouth again. It's clear what both boys are going for this time, neither holding back now there is a challenge involved.

Tanned hands come up to fist in bright red hair, tugging in what has to be a painful way, but the sounds that Michael lets out, muffled and broken into the other boys mouth, seem to suggest maybe not.

It's really a test of stamina, with there being no real way for both boys to grind against each other the way that they are, without being racked with waves of pleasure themselves. Calum's vaguely surprised that the door is still standing in place at this point, and he doesn't know if to focus on making Michael come or stopping himself from doing so, more.

“Starting to look a bit flushed there, dog, everything alright?” Michael smirks, fingers tightening their hold on the wolf's ass, nails trying to dig into the skin through his jeans.

Calum can only glare, the vampire must be able to feel how painfully hard he is by now, and he would be more worried about that if he couldn't feel that the other boy was in exactly the same state.

He wanted to say something, something in between the shorts spaces of their heavy breaths and shallow pants, which are quickly becoming more and more desperate. But it was just that little bit more satisfying to clutch the bright mess of hair tighter in his fingers, angleing the boy's head so that Calum could properly lick into his mouth, tongue smoothing over the descended fangs, as he thrust up just right.

The broken sob of a moan which Michael made into his mouth as he came, pushed the werewolf over the edge, both boy's gasping and slumping against the other as they come down from the high. Calum's fingers are still clutched in Michael's hair, the other boy's hands still firmly placed on his ass.

Calum ignores the warm, pleasant glow that's in his chest, this isn't a nice moment, they still hate each other, his body needs to get a grip. Forcing himself from the vampire's grasp, he shifts to the side, back hitting the wall with a thump as they both slide to the floor in sync.

A minute passes as the currently playing song comes to an end, when Michael pipes up, “I so won that.”

The werewolf scoffs, “Please, you came too.” he points out, eye's shifting to the quickly blossoming wet patch on the front of the other boy's pants.

Michael rolls his eyes, “Yeah, but you came _first._ ” he argues.

“No I _didn't_.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn't, _you_ did!”

“Yeah, well we'll see next time.” Michael mutters casually, head hitting the back of the door as his eyes close.

And Calum just blinks stupidly at him, mouth open and ready to call him out on how the fuck this is so _not happening again._ The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue but they don't come out because...okay sure, next time.

Who is he to complain really, what does he loose from this, he can piss the other boy off as much as he wants and still gets off at the end of it.

Yeah, Calum's pretty happy with the sound of that. Besides, he glances to the side, examining Michael's profile, the slight sheen of sweat coating his skin, the delicious curve of his neck and he's struck with a bizarre urge to lick and bite the skin there...alright, so he's kind of a little bit hot.

So Calum is definitely okay with the whole 'next time' thing. Maybe he's even looking forward to it already, just a little.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big loves, im gonna go cry some more over wet!flat-haired!luke now!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so sorry for the wait, I had a deadline this week and I actually skipped off uni today so i could get this done (oops), but hey I hope it was worth the wait :)

 

Luke walked down the street with a tin of cupcakes and an itch under his skin.

He should have gone down to the blood bank days ago, he knows he should have but between school and seeing Ashton he just couldn't find the time. It's not like they were exactly legal establishments, so they couldn't be expected to stay open twenty four hours a day. And with the police sniffing around a lot more lately, they were taking less and less risks.

But Luke wasn't too worried, he knew that some of the police themselves used the banks so there was never any _real_ danger of them being found out. Or so he thought, apparently he was wrong on that. A fact which became clear once he ha turned down the street, only to have a tiny hand fly out and grab the ends of his hoodie. 

“No, Luke stop!” the little girl cries, pulling the vampire behind the wall where she was stood. 

Instantly recognising her as the daughter of the couple who ran the blood bank, worry set into his veins when he sees the tear tracks marring her face. “Molly? Molly, what's wrong?” he asks quickly, kneeling down to the dark haired girls level. 

“Don't go, you can't go.” Molly sobs, tiny fists bunching up in his collar like she could stop him from leaving. “You can't, they'll take you too!” 

Luke puts his hands around her small shoulders, “What do you mean, who will take me?”

Molly just turns, pointing around the corner with a tiny shaking hand to where Luke could see her parents and older brother being led out of the blood bank along with a few other vampires who he recognised. Their hands cuffed behind their backs as they are placed in the back of a police van. 

“Molly, where is your sister?” he asks, not seeing the middle child in the van. 

“She went to warn the others, told me to wait here for her.” she tells him, hiccuping slightly, but otherwise calming down. 

Luke nods, sitting down with his back against the wall and patting the ground beside him, “I'll wait with you, okay?” he says as Molly sits down, her tear stained face lighting up when he opens up the tin of cupcakes. “You like the chocolate ones best, right?” he asks, laughing as she nods excitedly. 

It's only twenty minutes until Luke picks up on the heavy, rushed steps coming towards them, Molly makes a confused noise when he shifts protectively over her, hand braced against the wall ready to move. There's a relived sigh that slips passed his lips when the girl's sister appears, out of breath and eyes widening when she doesn't see her sister immediately. 

They soften when they land on Luke and he leans back, revealing the little girl behind him. “Lisa!” Molly yells, hurdling towards the other girl, who scoops her up and holds her tightly in her arm.

“Oh thank god.” Luke hears Lisa breath into her sister's hair. 

“They took them... Mum and Dad and Billy.” 

Lisa just holds her closer, brushing the stray hair from the younger girl's face, “I know, I know, they took Aunt Jan as well, I was too late.” she turns to Luke, still stood in front of them, “Thank you, for watching her.”

“No problem.” Luke waves her off, “What actually happened?”

“There was a ruse.” Lisa sighs, taking a step closer. “It was all planned, had been for months now. They took down all the known blood banks, even the ones we didn't know they knew about, all at once. There wasn't any warning, nothing, me and Mol were out when I got the call from Billy, right before they made it into the cellar.” 

There were tears starting to fill Lisa's eyes but she wiped them away almost angrily, like she was annoyed at her body for letting her down. She was a strong girl for her age, which couldn't have been more than sixteen, Luke guessed you would have to be if your family ran an illegal underground blood bank. 

“Where will you go now?” he asks, dreading the answer and wishing that it was possible to take them to his own home if it came down to that. 

“We have grandparents out of town who we can stay with for a while.” Lisa says, relief washing through Luke for a second time. “But, what about you, what will you do?” she asks, nothing but concern in her eyes as she watches the vampire absently scratch at the skin on his arm. 

Luke stops quickly, waving her off, “Oh I'll be fine, don't worry.” he says easily, ignoring the tingle under his skin, which has only gotten worse with being so close to Lisa's thumping heart beat. “You two should get out of here.” he says, picking up the tin of cupcakes off the ground and handing them to Molly. “I'll make some more chocolate ones for the next time I see you.” he promises, trying to smile brightly as he waves goodbye. 

 

~oOo~

 

The next few days aren't great for Luke, he leaves the house as little as possible, not trusting himself to be around so many humans, and keeping the hunger at bay with the occasional rat he finds in the alleyways. It's not ideal, not in the slightest, but at least he's not killing anyone. 

His parents notice of course. Naturally they don't approve of their son's chosen lifestyle, but Luke thinks that had more to do with the illegal side of it, his father not wanting his reputation tarnished by having his son's 'illicit acts' plastered all over the papers. It was the way they looked at him over the next few days that gave them away, almost smugly as they watched him deteriorate, waiting to pounce and force their feeding ways onto him. 

Luke could only imagine what he looked like now, mainly because he can't actually see himself in the mirror so imagination's all he's got, but he guesses that it's coming up something similar to the drained, starved vampires they sometimes see on the news. Dark circles under his eyes, which are dull and black, he can see how his skin has thinned out, like tissue paper, the blue veins standing out starkly against the white. 

He's locked up in his room, away from the gaze of his parents, sick of everyone around him acting like he's a murderous bomb about to go off and snap up the nearest human. He wouldn't be surprised if his parents have a party planned out for the moment he does. 

There's a hard buzzing from his night stand, and Luke groans into the pillow he has his face currently planted in. He had been ignoring his phone for days now, knowing that it was either Ashton or Michael, knowing that the other vampire boy would be no help (although Michael didn't visit blood banks he also insisted he didn't drink from humans, always saying he 'had it sorted' when ever Luke brought it up and that's all he got.) 

The reasons for ignoring Ashton were completely selfish, and one of the hardest things he had to deal with. He knew that if he spoke to the werewolf that he would go there if he asked, but Luke couldn't do that, couldn't put Ashton in danger like that. But he couldn't let him know there was anything wrong, the wolf was a worrier and Luke knew that ignoring him wouldn't stop that, but at least he'd be safe. 

It was just so fucking hard.

Which is why he groans when the phone stops buzzing and goes to voice mail, Ashton's voice filling the room. “Luke? Luke will you please pick up, I'm worried.” the voice asks, and the vampire can hear the concern practically bleeding though the speakers. “Look I... I heard about the blood banks...I know you're struggling, and you're ignoring me because you're an idiot and think you're keeping me safe or some shit.” 

Luke snorts into the pillow at that. 

“But don't okay, I want to help...I don't know how, just...” the werewolf sighs heavily and Luke can almost picture him running a hand through all that hair. “Just let me know you're okay...plea-.” the recording cuts off with a beep and the heavy silence creeps back into the room, along with the itching under Luke's skin. 

The booming sound of the front door closing, tells him his parents have returned so Luke pays it little thought, expecting them to ignore him as they always do. So he's slightly surprised when he hears his mum's voice floating up the stairs. “Luke come down, we need to talk.” and, okay... _that's_ new. 

He practically rolls off his bed, his whole body weak and he's unsteady on his feet as he shuffles to the door. That's when he smells it. 

The blood. 

The hand he has on the handle tightens so much he makes a fist shaped dent in the metal, hissing as he tries to force his fangs to retract as the scent takes over. His head is foggy with  _want_ and Luke hates it, hates that he's almost dizzy from it. “N-no...I know what you're d-doing...I wont. You can't m-make me.” he yells, and it's broken and cracked so he's hoping the slamming of the door will make his point better than his words. 

The dizziness lessens once the door is shut, and Luke is slumped against it fang-less and panting. Then his mum is outside, silent in approach until she speaks, “Come on, Luke this has gone on long enough, stop being a child and accept that  _this_ is who you are... _what_ you are.” she says, her voice has that dangerously calm tone to it, that mothers seem to have perfected. 

“No!” Luke says, feeling every much the child she is accusing him of being. 

She sighs behind the door, a second later the handle starts to turn and Luke presses himself harder against it, trying to keep her, and the strong scent of blood, out. But he's weak, so god damn weak and it's nothing but easy for her to force her way into the room. Luke's hand flying to cover his mouth, attempting to keep most of the scent away. 

It works, but only makes it easier for his mother to wrap a hand around his arm, dragging him from the room and down the hall. Luke's yelling, fangs creeping back down and he's even fucking  _salivating_ as the scent of blood grows stronger, it's even on his mum's hands.

He can hear the heartbeat now as they get to the stairs, can feel it moving through the air all around him, calling out, drawing him in. It's owners quiet sobs break through the haze of pure hunger that's filling Luke's head, and he wants to be sick, this whole thing is sick. 

When his knees hit the cool, hard tiles of the entrance hall floor, Luke doesn't even feel it. His father is stood there, a hard disgusted look in his eyes as he watches his son sprawled out on the floor, his hand clutching the collar of the sobbing man. He's homeless by the looks of him, and smell too probably but all Luke can make out is the sweetness of the blood oozing out of a deep gash at the base of his neck, just by his shoulder. 

“Look at you, still trying to resist. It's pathetic.” his dad mutters, fingers pressing down into the man's wound, making the blood rise up, spilling out and down his throat as he yells at the pain. 

“Stop it!” Luke cries, nails scraping against the tiles, eyes squeezing shut like that would some how stop the assault of hunger washing over him. 

Then his mother's voice is at his ear again, “Just drink, honey. It's completely natural, it's what we do. Don't fight it.” she coos softly. 

“I c-can't. I wont.” Luke spits through gritted teeth, feeling his fangs digging into his bottom lip. 

His father sighs impatiently, “Stop being such a child and  _drink_ !” he roars, throwing the man across the floor so he lands at Luke's feet, and the blonde scurries back, breaking out of his mother's hold. 

He's moving before she can get her hands back on him, not even thinking as he barrels out of the house, the fresh air hitting him the moment he steps outside. But he keeps running, his head clearer than it was now that the threat of fresh blood had been taken away. It's not like he's thinking where he's going, just focusing on getting as far away from his house as possible. 

So he shouldn't really be surprised when he finds himself stood outside Ashton's house.

The doors opening before he's even reached it, like it always had done the last few times he had come here, and the familiar action makes a warm fondness fill Luke's chest. The werewolf is smiling for a second, before he sees how Luke is clinging on to the wooden banister of his porch. 

Ashton's at his side in a second, arms looping around Luke's waist and he slumps against him, head pressed against his chest. He can feel the other boys heart beat, strong and close and temping and -

“No! No you can't, get away!” he says, trying to push away from him, but Ashton only holds on tighter much to Luke's annoyance. “Ashton let me go, I'll hurt you!” 

The smaller boy laughs weakly, lifting him up off the ground entirely and carrying him into the house. “I don't think you could hurt a fly right now, have you seen yourself?” he mutters, placing Luke down on the couch gently and it's only then does the blonde boy realise just how much he is shaking. 

There's a hand coming out to stroke over his hair and Luke wants to scream at Ashton, because that's another damn pulse point really fucking close to his mouth. But it feels good, really good, and it's easier to focus on that then on the sound of the blood pumping through the werewolf's body. 

“I knew you weren't okay.” Ashton mutters, tips of his fingers tracing over the dark black circles under Luke's eyes, frowning deeply. “Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?”

“Didn't want you to worry.”

Ashton snorts, the hand in his hair pausing while he says, “Well guess what, radio silence is a pretty shit way of making me not worry.” but then he's shaking his head, hand back to carding through the blonde's hair, “Hell, I can't even be properly mad at you, not when you're like this.” he sighs. 

Luke averts his eyes, hating the pitied looks, like he was a hurt animal at Calum's shelter. “They tried to make me drink.” he whispers, feeling Ashton still suddenly. 

There's a cold edge to his voice when he asks, “From a human?” and it makes a shiver run down Luke's spin, even though he knows the anger isn't directed at him, but at his parents. “The bastards, I'm gonna -” he stands up, like he's actually going to go and take down a pair of fully grown, very powerful vampires...and Luke actually doesn't doubt that he wouldn't at least try. 

Which is why he reaches out, grabbing Ashton's wrist as tight as he can. “No, Ash that wont help anything and you know it.” he tells him, watching the anger in those hazel eyes fade away as he looks down at Luke's shaking hand wrapped around his wrist. 

Ashton sighs, crouching back down making Luke's breath hitch as he slides his hand up so he can lace his fingers with the vampire's. “Then what can I do? I want to help you...I hate seeing you like this.” he mutters the last part under his breath, but Luke still hears it and it makes his chest clench. 

He can see the idea come into Ashton's head, see the spark of it in his eyes. “No.” Luke is saying before the wolf can even speak, “No Ash, I'm not doing it, I'll hurt you.”

But the other boy isn't listening, already rolling up the sleeve of his shirt and rolling his eyes. “No you wont.” he replies, easily. 

“You don't know that, _I_ don't know that!” Luke insists, moving back further into the couch, like that will stop Ashton doing this. 

“You wont hurt me, I know you wont.” he says softly, sitting down beside the wide-eyed blonde. “It's the only way, now stop being so bloody stubborn already.”

Then there's a tanned arm in front of Luke's face, and he can  _hear_ the blood rushing through the prominent veins, can feel his fangs lowering without him asking them to. And Ashton's smirking like he's won, like this was a game. “Use me, I'm offering.” he tells him, eyes steady and certain as Luke's flicker between them and his offered arm. “You need this Luke, let me help...please.” 

He's right, Luke knows he' right which is the real kicker here. He also knows he's not leaving this house in this state, this is his only option. He sits up, shaking from the effort and Ashton frowns but says nothing, only reaching forward to cup Luke's chin, pulling him forward and positioning him in front of the offered arm. 

Luke sighs, fangs tickling his lip as he cast a look up at Ashton. “This is going to sting a bit, so...I'm sorry.” he says, stupidly, the pure heat radiating from the boy pulling him in as he takes Ashton's arm in his hands, turning it so his wrist is facing towards him. He can feel the blood racing under his fingers, can practically smell it as he runs his nose along the skin, fangs scraping along and he hears Ashton's breath hitch, seconds before Luke breaks the skin. 

He's pretty sure the wolf grunts as the fangs pierce his skin, but Luke doesn't notice. There's such a rush of feelings shooting through his whole body at the first tiny taste of blood that hits his tongue. He can't help but clamp down, shuffle closer and catch every single drop that falls like it was liquid gold. 

Human blood was fine, it was good, it hit all the right spots. But  _this_ , this was something entirely different. Ashton's blood was richer, the iron tang was stronger and Luke didn't know if it was just the fact that he had gone so long without any, or if it was something in the werewolf's blood that was making his head spin. 

He felt drunk, and it made him crave more, more of the feeling the wonderful fuzzy feeling that was sweeping through him. Moaning out against the warm skin that his mouth was pressed up against, swirling his tongue over the skin, over the blood tricking into his mouth. 

“Luke -?”

He bit down harder, sinking his fangs deeper into the skin, forcing more blood to flow to the surface. 

“Luke, okay you've got to stop now.”

He couldn't stop, he needed more of this wonderful feeling, he didn't want it to end. 

“ _Luke!”_

Ashton's voice broke through the daze, the blood induced trance that Luke was under, making him jerk back. His fangs still out, blood dripping down his chin and onto his shirt, but it didn't matter. Not when Ashton sat there, his face having lost some of its usual colour and he's clutching his wrist in his hand, trying to stop the flow of the blood. 

“Oh my god!” Luke cries, darting forward and taking the wolf's arms in his hands, thumb running in soothing circles. “I'm sorry, I knew that would happen, but I couldn't stop, I'm sorry -”

“Luke, stop.” Ashton tells him firmly, and that's when he see's it, when he finally looks up from the trail of red leaking from between the tanned boy's fingers, his eyes, well his pupil's blown wide like Luke's never seen them before. His chest is heaving like he's out of breathe and the picture as a whole is doing things to Luke, that the vampire didn't want to happen in such close proximity to the other boy. “It's fine, you just started to push it a bit is all.” Ashton chuckles. 

But Luke's not laughing, Ashton's still bleeding. He bit too deep, he knew he had. “Quick, give me your arm.” Luke says, and the other boy is hesitant, understandable, given the trickles of red running down the limb he was just asked to hand over. But he does it any way and Luke bows his head, tongue running over the two marks and he can still taste the blood but he pushes past it. 

He works over the marks, feeling the flow decrease under his tongue but Ashton's heart rate is still thumping like crazy. Luke just puts that down to what just went down a few minutes before. When he leans back, the marks are gone, with just smudges of pinkish-red staining the skin around where they used to be. That's not exactly surprising, it had been Luke's aim after all, what is though is the hungry look on Ashton's face when he finally looks up at him. 

There's a lump in Luke's throat as he tries to swallow, not able to tear his gaze from Ashton's. “Um...there you go.” he says, lamely in his opinion, but he can already feel the post feed tiredness creeping up on him. It's never usually this fast, but he suspects it is because of how desperate he had gotten. 

Ashton clears his throat loudly, “W-woah, that's...that's a pretty awesome trick.” he mutters, watching carefully as Luke slumps back against the couch, eye's fluttering closed as he still tries to smile weakly. 

“There...now I helped you.” he murmurs as the dim, warm lights of Ashton's living room started to fade away, and the last thing Luke feels is a strong pair of arms lifting him into the air, wiping the blood from his chin and then something soft pressing against his forehead, _lips_ his exhausted brain supplies, _they're lips._

Luke tells his brain to shut up, the only other lips near him are Ashton's, he why would they be kissing him? But it's a nice thought, so Luke lets himself believe it for the second longer he has before he drifts asleep in the werewolf's arms. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one /will/ be up faster i promise!!! all the love, don't forget to come talk to me, you make my day :D xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello chicks! 
> 
> So this is quite a Malum centric chapter, and for some reason it just didn't want to play nice with me, so sorry about the wait AGAIN, I know I'm terrible :/

 

Luke wakes up wrapped in a mass of blankets and can't help but grin to himself. It wasn't like he needed them, but the thought of Ashton throwing, what felt like all the blankets he owned over him, made the vampire boy ridiculously happy.

There was the smell of something sweet drifting up the stairs, the soft hum of the radio playing cheesy 80's hits, and Luke could hear Ashton joining in occasionally over the bangs of the pots. He settled back down amongst the mass of covers, his head still feels heavy and thick, like a hangover but without the pain, and Luke doesn't know if it's just because he's not used to fresh blood or the fact that's it's _Ashton's_ blood that's doing it. 

It's pretty unheard of, a vampire drinking from a werewolf, so Luke's never actually heard of any possible things that happen after wards. But he doesn't care right now, not when he's literally buried in Ashton's scent, the boy himself cooking in the kitchen and the whole thing is so fucking domestic, but Luke thinks he could easily get used to it. 

Which should probably scare him more than it does.

There's the sound of footsteps on the stairs and then Ashton is standing in the doorway, a two plates of pancakes in his hands, and he's smiling at the boy in his bed. “I know you don't really eat, but I was making them anyway and...I don't know, felt mean leaving you out.” he explains, handing over a plate as he sits down, cross-legged on the end of the bed. “Someone's looking a lot better this morning.” he adds, nodding at the vampire. 

“Feel it, thanks to you.” Luke says, digging into the pancakes. “How's your, um, arm?” he asks, sheepishly, remembering the colour drained look to Ashton's face the night before, the wide blown out look in his eyes, the taste of him on Luke's tongue. Fuck he wanted to kiss him, he wanted to do more than kiss him. 

Shrugging, Ashton focuses on the plate in front of him, “Fine, can't feel a thing. Just a bit dizzy this morning is all.” he says, making the pancake into rolls, not looking at Luke when he mutters. “Anyway, doesn't matter, I'd do it again if it helps you.”

Dropping his fork, Luke looks at the other boy with wide eyes, “No, no you don't have to!” he argues, “I don't know when the blood banks will be back, but I'll manage, I'll find something, you -”

“Luke!” Ashton says, voice raised but his expression still fond. “Didn't I just say I would do it. I don't mind, I'm yours for as long as you need.” 

And well, Luke doesn't know what to say to that, too afraid that if he opens his mouth he'll say something stupid. Like how he's completely falling for this boy, who makes him pancakes and covers him with blankets even if he doesn't need them. So he doesn't say anything, and both boys sit in a comfortable silence, with the sound of the radio drifting up the stairs as they eat. 

When they're done, Ashton takes Luke's plate off of him and heads downstairs, the blonde boy promising he'll be right down. Okay, so maybe not right down, he takes a few more seconds in his blanket nest, sure it might be a little weird, but if anyone ask it's a side effect of the feeding. 

Finally pushing back the covers, there's a crinkle sound from the side, the noise of sheets of paper brushing over the other. Frowning, Luke pulls back the layers of fabric, there's a small pile of white sketch paper under the blankets and the vampire picks them up, curious. 

It's a drawing, Ashton's drawing. Even if it wasn't on the boy's bed, Luke would be able to tell in a matter of seconds. He loves Ashton's art, the paintings, the drawings, the sketches and they always make him feel happy. But now Luke's staring at this half finished picture and he doesn't. 

It's half of a face, a boy's face, just the side of the face and nose with a single eye and brow and Luke wants to cry. The boy is beautiful, purely because of the love that has obviously gone into the drawing, capturing this person that Ashton obviously cares about a lot, on paper. 

He feels empty. Hollow, like someone had reached into his chest and pulled his heart out. Of course there was someone else, Luke wouldn't be that lucky. 

When Ashton's voice comes up the stairs, he jumps, the drawing falling from his hands. “Hey Luke, where you at?”

“Here, here I'm coming now.” Luke manages to get out, throat closed up and hoping that Ashton doesn't hear the tightness in his voice. It's childish, but he can't help but feel some form of envy towards the boy who belongs to the half drawn face on the paper, as he covers it with the blankets. He heads off down the stairs, hoping his heartbreak doesn't show on his face. 

 

~oOo~

 

 

The shelter didn't really get many 'walk ins' , usually people just called up and had them come out to collect the animal. So Calum was always surprised when the bell on the shelters front door rang out through the building, even more so when there was no sign of the usual wall of barking which usually greeted customers. 

That could only mean one thing.

“Hey, dog!”

_great_

Calum takes hold of the kitten who's leg he was binding, putting her down in the basket, before he walks out to the front of the shelter. Michael's there, of course who else would it be, stood smugly in the middle of the room. The animals shrinking back into their cages, sensing the natural danger that came with the vampire's presence.

Through his low bubbling annoyance at the boy's cocky ass expression, Calum can't help but snort. “Decided to fully embrace your inner Ice Queen, have we?” he laughs, nodding towards Michael's newly dyed blue hair.

The vampire boy scowls, “Ha, funny. Tell me, do you actually have a home, or do you just sleep here with the rest of your kind?” Michael asks, crouching down to peer at a small yorkshire terrier, who growls, teeth bared at the boy.

“Is there something you want, because I actually have work to do?” Calum sighs, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

Michael snorts, “Sorry am I interrupting some veterinary excellence?”

“I don't have time for this shit now, Leech Boy.” Calum says, heading into the back room with a roll of his eyes.

There's a breeze, a rush of air as Michael speeds past him, when he blinks the other boy is stood over the basket, hand stroking the injured kitten. It's kind of adorable and Calum needs him to stop immediately. “Hey, don't touch her.”

Michael sighs heavily, stepping away from the basket with his arms raised by his head. “Happy?” he asks, and Calum doesn't think a single quirking eyebrow has ever made him so annoyed before.

“Of course not, you're still here aren't you.” he mutters, taking the kitten out of the basket and placing her gently on the operating table, very aware of the fact that Michael has taken to wander about the room. There's a clink of metal on metal and Calum glances up, seeing the blue-haired boy fiddling with the small collection of tools they had at the shelter. “Put those down, you idiot.”

Smirking, the vampire sets the tools back down, making it very obvious that they're in the wrong place, which only serves to make the werewolf's blood boil. “What's wrong, dog?”

“Nothing.” Calum scowls, trying to focus on finishing the bind on the kittens leg.

Michael makes his way around the table, nails scratching along the metal. “Not distracting you am I?” he smirks, and the younger boy doesn't know what he wants more, to slap it or to kiss it off his stupid face.

“Pfft, no.”

“Huh, guess I'll have to try a bit harder then.” Michael mutters, and then he's moving again, in a white, blue, black blur.

Suddenly there are fingers tugging at Calum's hair and a body pressed against his back. “Stop it.” he hisses, trying to shift away but Michael just pulls on the strands even more. The tanned boy has to bite down on his lip to keep in the moan that's threatening to spill out...so he _might_ have a thing for people pulling on his hair, it was just his luck that it's exactly what Michael had decided to go for first.

“Why, don't you like it?” he asks, and Calum can hear the smirk in his voice, breath skimming over the shell of his ear, as the fingers carry on tugging. “Ah, I knew you did.” Michael continues when he doesn't reply, making the younger's cheeks redden.

Calum ignores him, the pounding of his heart, the little voice in his head telling him to just listen to his dick, which is screaming at him to spin around and push Michael to his knees. He tries to focus on tying the knot of the bandage tight enough so that the kitten wouldn't undo it, but when there are a pair of lips against his neck, it's a little difficult.

“Having trouble?” Michael mumbles, when Calum's hands slip as the vampire boy starts to suck on the soft skin. He lets a low growl rumble through his chest, knowing the other boy can feel it with the way he's plastered against his back. If anything it only encourages him, making his tongue dart out, smoothing over the tanned boy's skin.

Calum's gripping onto the table, his fists turning white, Michael's fingers tangling in the shorter hairs at the base of his neck, just as he nips with his teeth. There's a groan from the table when the werewolf actually makes finger shaped dents in it, as his cock jumps in his pants and he grits his teeth in annoyance.

“Huh, thats's a shame.” Michael comments lightly, as if that wasn't his half hard dick pressing against Calum's ass right now. “You heal to quickly to leave marks.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Calum huffs, while hands trail down his back, looping around his waist and to the front of his jeans. “Stop it, I'm trying to work.”

Michael tuts, “Always spoiling my fun.”

The werewolf turns, his breath hitching in his throat when he realises just how close his face is to Michael's, eyes darting down to his lips, still drawn back into that ridiculous smirk. “So why don't you take your smart ass mouth and get it and you, out of my face?”

“Oh, and where would you prefer them?” the blue-haired boys asks, hand skimming the growing situation in Calum's pants.

Breathing heavily through his nose, the other boy bats his hand away. “God, is your soul purpose in life to just make me as annoyed as possible?” he hisses.

Before he can even blink, Michael's right up in his space again, lips brushing the shell of Calum's ear and thigh slotted right up against the werewolf's hardening dick. “That's not the only thing I make you is it?” he whispers, lowly.

And okay, Calum knows where this was going. Had done really from the moment he saw the vampire boy stood in the doorway. This was hardly the first time since the incident in the graveyard office, they hadn't talked about it, it had just become a thing for one of them to approach the other and get them riled up enough until they get each other off.

So when Michael sinks to his knees, fingers expertly popping open the button of the jeans, Calum's not at all surprised. The sound of his jeans and boxers hitting the floor don't phase him either, or the hot breath ghosting over the head of his cock. His hands are still braced on the table when the vampire boy stops, making Calum finally look down. “Well, what the hell or you waiting for, you gonna suck my dick or not, Ice Queen?”

Michael rolls his eyes, making the other boy's knees buckle as he takes him all on one go. It was funny, Calum thought, the contrast of the stone cold hands clutching his thighs and the somehow damp heat of the mouth wrapped around his cock, working up and down the length.

He feels the tip brush against the back of Michael's throat and groans, looking down at the stretch of his pink lips and for some reason find himself laughing. “Finally found something that mouth of yours if good for.” he says, making the boy on his knee's frown.

The next thing Calum knows Michael is pulling off, and he can't help the tiny whine of protest from slipping out. “If you can still say shit like that, then clearly I need to up my game.” he mutters, tongue coming out to lick a flat strip over the head of Calum's cock, hand twisting at the base as the younger boy moans.

It's like the other boy knows just the fastest ways to bring him to the edge, knows all the spots to hit to make Calum into a panting mess, clutching the side of the table. He hates it, hates knowing that this boy can somehow make him drop all his barriers with a few carefully placed flicks of his tongue.

Yet here he is, right on the edge of coming down Michael's throat, _again_ and he's starting to forget the reasons why this whole thing started. Which he would give more thought to, but the vampire boy is sucking him right down, his nose brushing Calum's treasure trail and the only warning he can think to give is a hurried. “Fuck, fuck...Michael, Im gonna-”

Then the table's groaning in protest again at the weight put on it, Calum's legs nearly giving out, as he comes down the vampire boy's throat.

He doesn't even notice how his pants are pulled back up, until Michael's stood in front of him again, wiping the stray drops of come from his chin. “Well...that was lovely and all, but believe it or not I did actually come here for something.” he says, hands slipping into his back pockets, and Calum can only pant and frown.

That something, turned out to be orange, furry and with a damaged leg. “You said she would be okay to leave in a few weeks, so I was just...curious.” Michael mutters, peering into the cage where the fox was curled up on herself, sleeping away.

Calum watches him, not used to seeing the soft look on the other boy's face, no taunting smirk, just honest concern. “Yeah, we're giving her a few more days and then we'll take her back to the woods.”

Michael snaps his head up at that. “What, to the same place? What if she gets stuck again?”

“Well, did you fix the fence like I told you to?” Michael nods, “Then she'll be fine.” the werewolf reassures him, a hand coming out to pat the vampire's shoulder, “Besides, _if_ she doesn't, I'm sure you'll find her again, and you know where I am so...” Calum trails off, watching the way Michael is staring at the hand on him, his expression unreadable.

_this is probably the longest we've spent not fucking with each other_

…

_god it's weird_

_are we being...nice??_

…

_i guess it's not bad, maybe i could -_

Michael clears his throat loudly, “Yeah, here with the rest of your dog family.” he smirks, but there's not heat in it, no challenge, it's like he had noticed the lack of hate around them both. After all, it wasn't his best.

Calum only snorts, somewhat glad to be back to the usual taunting insults. “Alright, whatever, Ice Queen.” he hits back, almost on instinct now, just a reflex action.

He ignores the knowing look Michael flashes him before he leaves with a “See you around, Pup.” and Calum's left wondering for the rest of the day why their 'insults' are starting to maybe not sound so insulting any more.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and I need to change the summary bc it's just not working for me, but I'm pretty back at them, so which quote/section do you guys would fit best so far, maybe you have a favourite line or something that could be used?? anything would be great :)
> 
> all the love and hugs xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *emerges after nearly 3 weeks* *posts chapter, waves and hides*
> 
> So so so so, sorry for the wait lovelies, life's been a bit more mad than usual and this chapter wouldn't behave for ages, but it's nice and long to make up for it, and I really hope you guys enjoy it :) xx

 

Isla was acting strangely.

In this case 'strangely' meant quiet, as in she had barely said more than four words to Ashton since he arrived at the studio that morning, two of them being “Morning, love.”. She spent her time pottering around the cold room, humming under her breath while Ashton worked, bent over a canvas as he lightly sketched out an idea for his next piece. He kept feeling her eyes on him, but when ever he looked up she would quickly glance away.

“Everything okay, Isla?” he asks slowly, after the nymph had pretended to be very invested in counting the brushes in the pot held in her hand. Even though Ashton knew she had already counted them. Twice.

Isla laughs, loudly...too loudly. “Of course, why do you ask?”

“You seem distracted, what's going on?”

She scoffs, waving him off with a roll of her violet eyes. “Nothing, you silly boy. Don't be -”

“Isla.” Ashton cuts across firmly, “I'm not stupid, are you going to tell me what it is or not?”

The old nymph sighs, placing the brush pot down and toddling over. The stool beside him squeaks against the floor when Isla pulls it back, hopping on and pulling a leaflet from her pocket. “There's another internship I want you to try for.” she tells him.

He frowns at her, eyes flicking from Isla's face to the papers in her hand. “Okay, that's great I don't see what the problem is though?”

Isla says nothing for a moment, her tiny hand finding the werewolf's arm. “Take a look at where it is for me.” she says, handing the leaflet to him.

Still confused, Ashton does as she says, unfolding the paper slowly. Eyes practically bugging out of his head, when he sees the name of the studio at the top of the leaflet. “You're joking?” he breathes, “Isla, there is no way I could get this, this is one of the top studio's in the country.”

Isla swats his arm sharply, “Don't be ridiculous, you have the talent I know you do.”

Ashton laughs, emptily. “But not the right genetics. It's a nice idea, but it's just going to be the art fair all over again.” he sighs.

Crossing her arms, Isla raises a single brow in a very motherly fashion. “Is this because of your boy?”

Ashton tenses up for a second, expression as neutral as he can possibly make it. “What boy?” he mutters, sliding the leaflet back to her.

The next thing he knows, Isla's hand is darting out and grabbing his sketch book, opening it up before Ashton has a chance to snatch it back. “Oh really, so it's just a coincidence that you have drawn pictures of Mr Hemmings on almost every page?” she says, a painted green finger landing on one of the many pages of Luke's face, and a slightly smug lilt to her voice.

The werewolf blushes, closing the book and putting it down on the chair beside him. “He's still not my boy.” he tells her, with a hint of petulant child sneaking in there.

A small hand comes down on his shoulder, and Ashton doesn't even need to look at Isla's face to know the sympathetic expression she's wearing. “But you want him to be, don't you.” It's not a question, more of a obvious fact at this point, so he doesn't make to reply, keeping focused on the outline on the canvas in front of him.

“Apply for the internship.” Isla adds, her hand slipping away. “I know you'll make me so proud, no matter what happens...and I bet Luke will be proud too.” At that Ashton glances over to the smirking nymph, who quickly puts on an innocent face. “Not that I'm trying to sway your decision or anything, but you know I'm right.”

Ashton can't help but roll his eyes, “You really need a hobby.” he tells her, waiting until Isla has left before sliding the leaflet into his pocket.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Calum had thought he had almost forgotten the sharp scent of strong whiskey, mixing with the usual lingering scent of the ally. So when he rounds the corner to work and the smell hits his nose, he's struck with the weirdest deja vu.

It had been weeks since the last time he had found Michael in his hungover state, and it's not until Calum's peering into the dumpster that he realises just how long it's been. There's a flurry of emotions running through him as he takes in the sight of the vampire boy curled up in the corner.

Annoyance is the most obvious, the most common and it's like a flash of quick heat passing through him. But then there's a new one, well one that he hadn't taken much notice of until now, it settles in his stomach and makes his heart feel heavy. If he had to name it Calum might call it pity or sadness, maybe even concern if he was pushing it, but then he wasn't thinking about it was he.

Michael's muttering under his breath, shifting around so the rubbish bags around him rustled. The werewolf sighs, reaching in and shaking his shoulder, “Hey, hey you've got to get out of there.” he urges, but the other boy does nothing, only curling into a tighter ball and pulling the empty bottle closer to his chest.

“C'mon Ice Queen, don't make me drag your ass out.” Calum threatens, his hands falling on to his hips even though he knows Michael can't see.

There's more rustling and Michael's letting out a breathy sound that he suspects is meant to be laughter before he's muttering louder, “Y'can't get enough of my ass, huh.” and trust him to still sound like a cocky shit, when he's half unconscious and curled up in a bed of trash, Calum thinks as he rolls up the sleeves to his jacket.

Without any warning, he dives in to the dumpster, hands slipping under Michael's arms and pulling him out. It's really not the most graceful either boy had ever been in his life, the vampire tumbling out onto the ground, only staying upright by the iron grip he had on Calum's arms. “T'fuck?” Michael's slurs, bottle falling to the ground and Calum was going to let go, but that was before he realised that the other boy could barely stand on his own.

Turning him around in his arms, he holds his breath as a wave of booze surrounds them, looking at Michael's face. Sure he'd seen him still drunk a few times, the last of which ended with his back forced up against a wall, but something tells him Michael wont be doing that this time.

“Shit how much did you drink?” Calum asks, looping Michael's free arm over his shoulder for better support.

It takes him a minute to find his words, his head rolling onto the werewolf's shoulder. “Not enough.” he says, hot breath hitting Calum's neck and the younger boy has to repress a shudder. “Everything still fucked up....and...” Michael swallows, his free hand clutching at the bottom of Calum's shirt as he presses his lips against his neck. “...and I still want – I still want you.” he finishes, and his tone is whiny, frustrated but he's still trying to kiss his way up the other boy's neck, like he can't help himself.

“Okay, I'm calling Luke.” Calum says, attempting to arch away from Michael's touch and reach for his phone, only to find a pale hand wrapped around his own.

He looks down at the other boy, his green eyes wide and panicked. “No – not him – he can't...just don't, _please._ ” and it's that more than anything that makes Calum freeze, not quite sure he had heard that right. Did Michael just say 'please'? 

“Well what do you want me to do then? Why are you here?” 

Again, it seems to take a moment for the question to register through the haze of drink. “Kittens.” Michael mutters, slumping heavily against Calum. “Kittens, kittens kittens.” he repeats, hand still twisting at the shirt in his grip and Calum is so fucking confused right now. 

“I'm taking you inside.” he tells the babbling boy as he pulls him over to the door. It's tricky, unlocking the door with a handsy, muttering, drunk vampire in your arms, but Calum manages after a few goes. There's a small couch in the back room that he takes Michael to, letting him down slowly and lifting his legs so that he's laying down. He leaves for a minute to fetch blankets and a bucket, do vampire's even throw up? He didn't know, but just in case he put it down on the floor beside Michael and threw the blanket over him. 

Calum stepped back, ready to go back to work, he'd done enough this was fine. But for some reason he found himself turning back, leaning over and tucking the thin material over the sleeping vampire, hand reaching to his forehead and finding it still a icy cold to the touch, hell was that good or bad, he had no idea? 

Just as he was about to pull away, a hand grabs his making Calum stop. Hearing a faint voice calling “Pup.” from the couch. He looks back, finding sleepy green eyes staring up at him. “Stay?” Michael asks, and there's not please this time, but Calum can feel it, lingering in the space between them. 

Part of him wants to, the image of him sat on the couch, hand combing through Michael's hair as he sleeps, pops into his mind and he wants to move his hand so their fingers lace together. But he doesn't do that, and he doesn't stay. “Sorry, got to work.” he mutters, his hand slipping from Michael's as he pulls away. Calum doesn't look back as he leaves the room. 

~

For the next few hours that's all Calum seems to think about, the look on Michael's face, the feeling of his hand taking his own. He can't stop the guilt from swirling around his stomach and he doesn't know why, it's not like he likes Michael, or even that they're friends. 

But it's not like he dislikes him either, and that's the most confusing part. 

Even before this 'thing' between them started, Calum always felt a little sorry for the vampire boy who'd fall asleep drunkenly in the dumpster. After all, no one drank that much, that often and didn't have problems. Only back then it had been easy for him to ignore that, seeing just the irritating, cocky asshole he wanted to see. 

Now he wasn't so sure he could do that. 

A low groan from the back room tells him that Michael is awake, and sure enough a minute later he's staggering into the clinic, rubbing his hands over his face and fixing his hair. “What the hell am I doing here?” he moans, shielding his eyes from the brightness of the lights. 

And just like that, Calum's defences are right back up. “Oh thank you for the couch, Calum. Thank you for the blankets, Calum. How ever can I repay you, Calum.” he says under his breath, rolling up a length of bandage. 

Michael doesn't look too impressed, “Are you quite done?” he asks, dryly. 

The werewolf pretends to muse it over for a second, “Yeah, I think so.” he smirks, “You can go now, if you've finished rambling on about kittens that is.”

Michael blinks at him, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you did, over and over. Hey if it's some weird kink thing then I really don't wanna -”

“It's not a kink thing, you idiot.” Michael snaps, and Calum has never really thought about if he would be the grumpy-after-just-waking-up kind, but he's really not surprised. “I think that's what I was here for. I need a kitten.” Michael goes on, nodding towards the wall of cages. 

Calum snorts, “You  _need_ a kitten?”

“Yes, dog, I need one.” Michael almost growls, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “You gonna let me have one or not?” 

There's a moment where Calum is really tempted to refuse, say no just to annoy the other boy further. A month ago he wouldn't have hesitated for a second, but now he finds himself shrugging and stepping out from behind the table. “Fine, you gonna pick one out then?” he says, fetching the cage keys from the office. 

“Wait, you mean you're actually letting me?” Michael asks, clearly stunned at how easy that had gone. Calum swears he hears a hint of disappointment in his voice. 

“Sure, I mean you're not going to eat it are you?” he laughs, showing the other boy to the few kittens they had, before he stops. “....You're _not_ are you? Please say you're not going to eat the kitten?” he asks seriously, watching as Michael bends down to look at the first cage. 

He looks up at Calum with an expert what-the-fuck-dude face. “No I'm not going to eat the damn kitten.” he says, and Calum can't help a small sigh of relief. 

“Oh thank god." he says, and Michael rolls his eyes moving to the next cage and sticking his finger through the gap. The small grey kitten goes straight towards him, nuzzling up against the vampire's hand and Michael smiles. It's something Calum doesn't see much of, and he can't help but think it's a shame. 

He also thinks that if Michael were to eat a kitten it would be some fucked up form of cannibalism. “What do you want one for then, finally given up on trying to make people friends, giving animals a shot?”

“It's a gift.” Michael says, breezing past the comment. 

“Who for?”

“None of your business.”

_alright then_

A minute passes and the only sounds are the jingle of the keys in Calum's hand and the soft mewling of the kitten, before Michael stands up. “I'll take this one.” he says, pointing at the grey tabby.

Calum opens the cage, gently lifting the kitten out and handing her over to Michael. “There you go, one kitten.” he says, making to leave to the office but the other boy calls out before he gets there.

“Wait, isn't there like, some forms or shit to sign?” he asks, scratching under the kitten's chin before kissing the top of it's head softly.

It's all disgustingly adorable, and makes Calum's stomach do the dangerous flippy thing that it does before he had the chance to remind himself that this is _Michael_ , and he doesn't deserve the flippy thing. “No it's fine, I'll sort it. You can go now.” he says as nonchalantly as possible, turning his back to the boy and kitten.

He doesn't even hear Michael cross the room until there's the click of the door being opened. Calum stays turned, waiting to hear it close, which it does but not before there's a quiet. “Thanks, pup.”

It shouldn't get to him, the name, the burning curiosity, the inability just to let all thoughts of this boy go the minute he does. Calum tries to fight it, but it's a slow day he reasons, there's nothing else to occupy his time.

Which is why thirty minutes later he's pulling on his jacket and locking up the shelter behind him.

He doesn't even have to think when Michael's scent is before he's already picked it up, following it back down the ally and out on to the streets. It's slightly crazy he knows it is, but damnit he has questions. Why did Michael get stupidly drunk every week? Why did he stop? Why did he start again? Why does he want a kitten? Who is it for?

Calum wants to know. He needs to know. And for some reason he gets a feeling that if he follows Michael, he'll get his answers.

He knew they couldn't be good, after all what good reason did anyone have to drink that bad, it's nothing good. Calum doesn't know what to expect, just follows the scent of the other boy through the city, through districts he's never been through. They belong to the rich, the high end of society, mostly vampires which only makes sense really.

People give him funny looks as he goes past, so Calum walks faster praying that Ashton could come and pick him up, because he definitely doesn't have the money for a taxi out of here. He's not even sure where 'here' is.

Suddenly Michael's scent trails off to the right, and Calum turns to find a large very modern building, a long flight of stairs leading up to double doors, above which there's a large neon sign with the name of the building. Calum's heart drops in his chest as he reads the words.

_Central City Institute for Psychiatric Care_

“Oh, Michael.”

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Luke hasn't spoken to his parents since the incident a few weeks ago. He's barely been home spending most of his time at Ashton's when he's not at school, only going back to get clean clothes when he knows his parents are out.

It's not ideal, and most nights he spends at Ashton's on the couch, he doesn't exactly need sleep but he can. Luke actually like it, likes to dream and slip away from reality for a few hours. Just one of the other things that made him 'different' or 'freakish' as his family would put it, they're favourite word for when their son did anything 'too human-like'.

He hadn't fed since that night either, and had been putting it off as long as possible, hoping that Ashton wouldn't notice. Obviously it wasn't going all to well when the werewolf came home from the studio one night, took one look at Luke sat on the couch and said. “Alright, that's enough.”

Luke blinked up at him, dark circles under his eyes which only had a thin ring of blue left at the edges. “What?” he mutters, turning away, hoping that Ashton would just drop it.

He didn't of course. “You're feeding, tonight.” he declares, and actually starts rolling up his sleeves when Luke snorts. “I'm serious, I'm tiered of coming home and seeing you looking like...like you're _ill._ Not when I can do something about it.” Ashton tells him, sitting down on the couch.

“Ash I'm fine.” Luke starts, going to change the channel on the tv, his hand shaking when he lifts the remote so he stops quickly, internally groaning when Ashton's gaze hones in on his arms. “It's nothing.” he mutters, pulling down the sleeves of his jumper so that they cover his hands.

Ashton's shifting forward his hand finding the back of Luke's neck, fingers smoothing circles into his skin, and he wants to lean back into the touch, curl up against the older boy. “It's not fine, you're being ridiculous. Just let me help you.” Ashton pleads.

“I can't.” Luke nearly cries, darting up from the couch, only to have Ashton grab his hand and pull him back. He wasn't expecting it, and the werewolf didn't mean to tug so hard so that Luke toppled over, finding himself sprawled on the couch and pressed up against Ashton's side. His face was practically buried in his shoulder, his free hand braced against the back of the seat to break his fall and his hand still tangled in the other boy's.

The thud of Ashton's heart beat is ringing in his ears, he can feel the blood pumping through the veins in his neck. Luke lurches back, but Ashton keeps him close and they're both breathing heavy and all Luke can think is that the other boy really needs to control his heart beat right now. “Ash, I don't want to hurt you.” he mutters.

“You wont.” Ashton says, his hand coming up to cup Luke's face gently, and he's looking at him in a way that makes a lump rise in his throat. “Besides, it's really not that bad, you're not as dangerous as you think you are, Lukey.” he grins.

Luke sighs, “Fine, but remember...you tell me when you need me to stop, none of this stupid hero complex you have, okay.” he tells him sternly, hand slipping down from the back of the couch to grip Ashton's shoulder.

“Okay okay, I promise.” he says, “And I don't have a hero complex.”

“Course you don't.” Luke smirks, lowering his head, his nose running up the length of Ashton's neck before he settles on the spot by the curve of his shoulder. Ashton's wearing his shirt that has a wide neckline, Luke has always loved and hated it, because it gives him a perfect view of the boy's collar bones. And well, he's never had much self control with Ashton as it is, if he's going to do this then he can indulge slightly.

Pressing a kiss to the tanned skin, Luke can feel the blood flowing beneath his lips and his fangs descending slowly. “Ready?” he asks, the smooth tips now tracing over a vein as Ashton hums in reply.

He feels the boy beneath him tense as he pierces the skin, a single bead of scarlet running down the line of Ashton's collar before Luke's lips latch on over the wound. The bloods already starting to take over his mind, but he distantly notes the way Ashton's hand tightens on his, his thumb making soothing circles, like Luke is the one currently having the life drained out of him.

Part of him wants to feed of someone else, just to see if he would get the same feeling, if it would be as good as Ashton. Maybe it's the warmth, maybe it's the taste of the other boy that he can still make out against the blood, but feeding from Ashton is thrilling, it's like electric shooting through him.

The position he landed in isn't the most comfortable, the curve of his back starting to ache. So Luke shuffles closer, not really thinking about anything else except being as close to Ashton as he can be. His legs settle either side of the werewolf's thighs, and he hears Ashton moan softly, feels it rumbling through his chest.

The blood is making his head light and fuzzy, it's like being drunk and high without any of the bad parts. Luke's hand is tangled in Ashton's hair, fingers bunching up in a fist as he feels the older boy's hands at his waist, anchoring him down. It's enough, he's not as trapped in his head as the first time, not as lost, Ashton's touch keeping him rooted in the real world.

Luke's fangs retract, his tongue chasing the last stray drops and he takes his time closing the wound, sucking on the skin and kissing it gently, fighting the urge to follow the curve of Ashton's neck with his lips. He pulls back, glancing up at the other boy and finding blown out eyes looking down at him.

Ashton's hair is a mess from where Luke's hands had run through it, his cheeks are flushed despite the fact he had just had blood sucked from his body. The only think stopping him from looking completely fucked out are his lips, parted with heavy breaths passing between them. Luke wants to kiss him, make it so they match the rest, make the full picture.

But he doesn't, then Ashton is speaking again, “Better?” he asks, slightly out of breath and Luke wonders why. That is until he shifts on Ashton's lap, and realises that he's half hard in his jeans, and judging from the way the werewolf bite his lip at the movement, so is he.

_oh_

_OH_

“Sorry.” Luke mutters, thinking that he should probably be climbing from his lap round about now, but Ashton's hands haven't moved from his hips yet. He can feel those eyes on his face, and Luke just can't seem to meet them, something about looking the guy who you're pretty sure you're half in love with, who's lap you're sat in with a semi, in the eyes is pretty daunting.

Instead he trails over his chest, which is only a little easier, spotting the drying trail of blood disappearing down his shirt. “You've got a bit of -” Luke starts to say, reaching out to wipe away the mark.

Ashton's hand reaches up and takes his hand away. “It's fine leave it.” he says, trying for a small smile when Luke finally looks at him. “Oh, I um...I have something to show you, pass me my bag.” he says, nodding at the satchel bag on the floor by the couch.

Luke reaches back, pulling it up and handing it to Ashton, still sat with one hand on the blonde's waist as he searches for something. It turns out to be his sketch book, tucked in the back page is a single sheet of paper folded up, he pulls it out and holds it out to Luke with a sheepish expression.

It only makes him more curious, Ashton is hardly ever like this, he's so used to seeing confidence practically radiating off him, this is a whole new thing. “I wanted to make sure it was finished before I showed you. Took a bit longer than I thought.” he half grins.

Luke unfolds the paper and gasps. He's seen the picture before, well about a quarter of if, laying on Ashton's bed that morning. Glancing back over he sees how Ashton's eyes are watching him, hopeful and so Luke makes sure his voice is steady when he says, “Wow, it's brilliant, you're really amazing, Ash.” he smiles tightly, folding the paper away.

The hope fades from Ashton's face and that's not what Luke wanted at all, so he smiles wider. It doesn't help much, “Oh god you think it's weird don't you.” Ashton groans, head falling back against the couch, “I knew I should have asked you first, I'm sorry Luke I wasn't going to show anyone, it was just for you. I thought it would be cool if – ah I really fucked up didn't I -”

“Ashton. What the hell are you going on about?” Luke cuts him off, frowning down at the rambling boy.

Now Ashton is confused, they're two confused and semi hard boys sat in each others laps, great. “You're freaked out about the picture, aren't you?” he asks slowly.

“Why would I be?”

“Because it's _you._ ”

And wow, okay it's a good thing Luke was sat down for that. It takes a moment for the words to sink in before he's snatching the paper back up, unfolding it and drinking it all in. Every line, every curve his hand coming up to his face to follow the bones in his face, matching the ones on the paper. “It- It can't be.” he mutters, “That can't be what I look like.”

“What do mean, is it really that bad?” Ashton half laughs, but Luke's still staring at the drawing like he's never seen it before and - “Oh god, you don't know. You don't know what you look like...how beautiful you are.” he whispers, his hand coming up to Luke's face, sliding up his neck and cupping his jaw.

If Luke could blush he would be right now, “I think the lack of blood has done something to your head.” he tries to laugh, tries to keep calm about the fact that Ashton just called him beautiful, which was kind of a huge fucking deal.

Ashton that had drawn him, drawn _Luke_ like he was something special, not weird not a freak. Ashton who was looking at him in a way that made Luke's chest tight and his cool skin feel like it was on fire. Ashton who's fingers were taking his chin between them and his thumb, turning his face so he was looking at him. Watching, frozen in his lap as Ashton leans in closer and closer.

Luke stops breathing when lips press against his jaw, soft and warm and making their way along, up and over his cheek. Ashton's breath ghosting over his skin and sending shivers down his spine. He's so close to his lips, Luke wants to lean forward and close the gap, but he can't move, can't quite believe this is happening.

“Beautiful.” Ashton murmurs, his lips brushing Luke's before they cover them completely.

The drawing falls from his fingers as Luke moves to slide his hands over Ashton's shoulders, humming lightly as he kisses back. His head still fuzzy from the blood, the nerves at the ends of his body tingling, like his lips as they move with Ashton's. Luke shuffles in the boy's lap, craving the closeness like he did when he was feeding.

Ashton's hands settle on his hips, as his tongue brushes against Luke's bottom lip, making the blonde let out the slightest moan, his hip rocking down against Ashton's. Which of course is when the werewolf pulls back, “Shit, is this okay? We don't have to if it's -”

But Luke's having none of it, “Don't...” he growls, pressing his lips to Ashton's again, “...you dare...” he grinds down into his lap, “...stop now. Don't even _think_ about it.”

He feels Ashton grinning into the kiss, “Don't worry.....do you know how long I've wanted this?” he says, hands slipping under Luke's shirt. “How many times, I've had to stop myself?”

And Luke can't believe it, all these weeks thinking that there was someone else, thinking that he was pining after someone who'd never want him back. He kisses Ashton harder, desperately like he wants to melt into the other boy completely. “I saw the drawing before you know. When it was half done...thought it was someone else. I thought you -”

Ashton's cutting him off, sucking Luke's bottom lip into his mouth as he tighten his grip on his hips. “No, no one else. Just you, Luke, only you.” he says, knowing what the blonde was going to say.

“I can't believe it.” Luke can't help but laugh, as Ashton starts trailing kisses down his neck.

“Should I tell you some more then?” he mutters between kisses, leaning back with a smirk of his face, hands sliding back to slip into the back pocket of Luke's jeans “Or maybe show you?”

Luke moans a little at that, and can't help himself from rocking back into the touch. “Show me, definitely show me.” he breathes.

Ashton gives his ass a squeeze, “Not here though. Bedroom.”

And Luke doesn't think he's ever moved so fast in his life, as he did up those stairs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like smut, because the next few chapters are gonna be fun if you do ;) xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii, yes I am alive despite the shitty update rate of this fic...can someone please inform my uni tutors that TWO research projects over the holidays is both cruel and unsual, thanks! 
> 
> But, yeah, this is just a lashton chapter and it's basically entirely light smut, the next one will be malum with decidedly heavier smut and up in the next few days :)

 

Luke looked down at Ashton kissing up his stomach and was very glad at how he didn't need to breathe, because he certainly wasn't right now.

Both boys had raced upstairs in blurs, quite literally in Luke's case, Ashton close behind and giggling as his arms wrapped around the vampire's waist, pulling him down onto the bed. Kissing Ashton had only been a thing Luke had been doing for ten minutes, but it was already up there at the top of his list of favourite things to do.

So when the other boy breaks away, pulling back with his arms bracketing Luke's head, he can't help but pout a little. But Ashton only looked down, fingers fiddling with the button on Luke's flannel, and honestly he likes the shirt but if it means Ashton is kissing him sooner, he'd be more than willing to sacrifice a few buttons.

He doesn't have long to wait, Ashton clearly as impatient to get his lips on the flawless, pale skin beneath as Luke is. It's a shock, the contrast between them, Ashton's kisses burning into Luke's skin like the sun would do. Even on the hottest days vampires doesn't feel the heat like others would, protected from the rays by which ever charm they have chosen, keeping them from crumbling to dust.

In Luke's case, it's his silver ring looped around his pinky finger, which is tangled in Ashton's hair as he coaxes him back to his lips. For the first time in his life Luke feels flushed, even more so when Ashton pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion, before surging back forward to kiss him.

Luke gasps into his mouth when Ashton's body blankets his own, there's so much heat everywhere, seeping in to Luke's body where ever there's contact between them. He wonders if he's as icy cold to Ashton's touch, as burning the werewolf is to his own, but then there's a tongue slipping between his lips, meeting his own eagerly, and Luke's not wondering about anything else any more.

“Shit, Ash.” Luke breathes when the other boy's hip shift against his, making the fact that _oh yeah, we're both kinda hard right now_ jump right back into his head. His hands smooth down Ashton's sides and Luke feels him shudder at the touch, reaching for their jeans. “Can we just-?” he mutters, flicking their pants open along with their flies and they both groan lowly at the relief.

The only thing being now is that there is no more barrier between their cocks, other than the thin layers of cotton. It's all to easy to rock together, breathing heavily into each others mouths as their rhythm turns more desperate, sloppy. They haven't even taken all their clothes off yet, Luke's open shirt pooled at his sides and his shoulders free from where Ashton's hands had pushed the fabric clear.

The same hands that are reaching between them, making Luke moan as it brushes against his cock, the pre cum leaking through his boxers now. But it doesn't matter because the next thing he knows, Ashton is wrapping a large hand around him and Luke's bucking up into his fist, back arching and mouth falling open.

“This okay?” Ashton asks, lips sucking on the edge of Luke's jaw as he pumps out a steady rhythm, his own hips still moving over the blonde's thigh.

It's a fucking stupid question really, in what messed up world would Ashton's hand on his dick ever be a bad thing? If such a place exists, Luke definitely doesn't want to ever go there. He would point out the ridiculousness of the question, if Ashton's hand _wasn't_ on his dick and moving in a way which took away all of Luke's brain function, he would probably even be a little sassy about it.

But it is, and Luke was already kinda close because of it, so all he manages instead is a weak, “More, Ash please just more.”

Sure, it's pretty vague but Luke's not exactly up for giving details right now. There's just a brief pause, a lack of movement and a notable lack of contact on his cock while Ashton shifts above him.

“You're so perfect like this.” Ashton tells him, kissing Luke deeply, his lips and words making him forget that no one is touching him right now. “Even more than I imagined you would be.” Luke whimpers at that, half at the thought of Ashton thinking about this, about him like this, half from the brush of the back of his hand over the leaking head of his dick as Ashton moves.

Then there's a hand around him again, not just his own cock but Ashton's as well. They're brushing together in the werewolf's grasp, and it's definitely the more that Luke wanted. “I wish you could see yourself.” Ashton moans, increasingly breathless as he starts fucking into his own fist, cock sliding against Luke's.

“Maybe I'll draw it one day, you're face like this.” Ashton muses, almost casually if it wasn't for the slight crack in his voice.

“Please, Ash.” Luke whines, not even sure what he's asking for at this point, for Ashton to carry on or not to because Luke's not sure how much longer he'll last if he does. It's already too much, too much heat, too much want and need rushing through Luke's whole body for the boy on top of him, he doesn't know if he'll ever get over it completely, but he knows he never wants to.

Most of all thought, there's too much _Ashton_ and it's doing things to Luke's head, wonderful things, fussy things, overwhelming things. He's everywhere it seems, his touch, his ragged breath tickling Luke's neck as he buries his head into the curve of his shoulder. They're both close, Luke can tell as Ashton's pace starts to get sloppy, desperate and so he starts bucking up into Ashton's fist, hands grasping at his back.

The hand around them both tightens and Luke feels the growl slipping from the other boy's mouth, spreading through his skin making it prickle with excitement, making him go faster.

Ashton's almost silent when he comes. Mainly due to the fact that his face is buried in Luke's neck muffling his cries, but Luke feels them and the come spilling between both their bodies. The muscles in Ashton's back twitch and shudder beneath Luke's touch but he keeps his hand tight around his cock, if anything moving over it even more.

When Ashton's thumb smooths over the leaking head Luke whines loudly, making Ashton smirk against his skin, he can picture the cocky ass look on his face and if he wasn't so damn close Luke would have said something. That and not a second later did Ashton do the same, squeezing lightly at the tip and sending Luke's hips jerking into the air, mouth open and definitely not as quiet as Ashton had been as he adds to the sticky mess between them.

Apparently, neither one of them cares much for the drying mess on both their stomachs, Ashton makes no sign to move away more focused on peppering quick kisses along Luke's shoulder and up his neck. Luke lets him, far too content to lay there and enjoy the softness of the moment, trying to remember a time he felt this fucked out after a hand job.

“That was amazing.” he sighs, finger tracing up and down Ashton's spine. The other boy hums in agreement, carrying on his trail over Luke's jaw, but there's something in the sound that makes him pull back. “What is it?” he asks, blinking down at Ashton and he can't figure out if the almost pouty look on his face is because Luke pulled away or because of the thing that made him do so.

“Nothing.” Ashton mutters, trying to pick up where he left off. “I just really wanted to suck you off is all.” he says, pout out in full force now as his lips brush over Luke's, who swallows loudly, trying to ignore the way his dick twitches at the thought, at how that's actually something that could happen, is going to happen, hopefully in the very near future.

“Well, we've got time.” Luke smirks, watching the pout slip from Ashton's face as he leans forward, feeling him smile into the kiss.

“Good. I'm going to need a lot of it for what I've got planned.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hugs you* <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sings* I have a fuck tonne of uni work and research papers to be doing, but here is nearly 4K of malum for you lovely lot!

 

Calum was pretty fucking nervous right now.

The moment that he had stepped foot into the hospital the scent of _vampire_ hit him so strong, it almost made him cover his face with his hand. It was stinging and so intense it made his eyes water as he felt all the other, unnaturally bright ones in the lobby land on him standing frozen at the entrance. 

Okay, so maybe heading straight into a vampire hospital wasn't the greatest, most thought out idea Calum had ever had. But then again, it wasn't like he was think of much else except how he could still pick out Michael's scent through the thick stench of the others. He clung onto that as he walked through the room to the front desk, reminding him why he was facing the silver eyed receptionist, who was glaring up at Calum like he'd just trailed shit through her lobby. The need to say something smart arsed was so strong, Calum's jaw was twitching with the effort of keeping the small, polite smile on his face.

“Would you be able to tell me where the Clifford room is, I'm a friend of Michael's he asked me to drop by.” he says, his voice as sickly sweet as he could make it.

The receptionist still stared at him, nose wrinkling with disgust. “I'm sorry, but it's against this hospital's regulations to give out patient information to non family members.” she drawls, turning her attention to the computer screen in front of her.

Calum's hand curls into a fist at his side as he steps closer to the desk, “I don't want the information, just the room number.” he says, voice low and calm as he can make it.

“It's still not possible.” she replies, not even sparing him a glance and he _knows_ she is doing it deliberately just to piss him off. 

“Look, if you would just -”

“I'm going to have to ask you to leave now.” the receptionist tells him cooly, “You're...presence, is disrupting our patients.” and Calum lets himself slip a little, finally taking in how ever vampire in the room is muttering under their breaths, eyes darting over to him, others aren't even trying to hide their disgust at the werewolf's proximity to them.

“I just want to check on my friend, alright. So can you please stop being such a bitch and te-”

“I highly doubt he's your friend.” she scoffs, “Now are you going to leave or do I have to call security and have you dragged out like the dog you are?” The sweet smile on her face makes Calum's blood boil, the muttering, the stares, the fact that he still hasn't found Michael are all getting to him and he can feel his claws start to dig into the palm of his hand as he turns and strides out of the lobby.

He feels like he could scream, he wants to the second the fresh air hits his face and the scent of vampire isn't beating down on him. But Calum can still make out Michael's, even in the lobby and nearly suffocated in the other scents, he could have still followed it without even thinking.

There's a security guard just behind the door when Calum looks back, huge arms crossed and he's staring the werewolf boy down through the glass. There's no way he was getting back through there any time soon. Just then, there was a loud beeping coming from the side of the building, and Calum turned to see a large white van, stamped with the hospital's symbol, coming out from a delivery point.

_fucking thank you_

As casually as he can, Calum walks away from the main doors, waiting until the security guard has turned away before darting down the small road the van had come from. There's a door to the side, heading into the hospital which he quickly enters, finding himself in a long corridor, the sound of the hospital radio playing from one end.

Michael's scent had faded now, the other boy not having been in this part of the building. But once he reaches the end of the corridor, Calum catches sight of the lobby and the desk where he had just been. He remembers Michael's scent trailing off to the right, towards the stairs which were now right in front of him.

Calum wastes no time, both not wanting to be seen by the vampires in the lobby and that pull in his chest that wants to find Michael as soon as possible taking over. Once he reaches the top of the stairs, Michael's scent is fresh and strong again, and Calum doesn't even remember the direction he goes only that with each step the scent was stronger.

At the back of his mind Calum wonders when Michael's scent became bearable, when he had actually started to like it through the heavy haze of alcohol that usually surrounded him. More importantly when he had started to have to force the annoyance at his company, not commenting when their excuses for getting each other off became less and less serious, when he shoved Michael up against the wall and sank to his knees because he 'looked at him funny'.

But then he turns a corner, just as the blue haired boy steps out into the corridor, waving goodbye to someone in the room before the door closes shut. Calum is frozen still, he can almost pin point the moment Michael becomes aware of him, the sudden and unnatural stiffness that sets in through his body, the slow movement of his eyes across the floor until they reach Calum's feet.

The hospital lights make the dark circles under Michael's eyes stand out even more against his skin, he looks like shit and all Calum wants to do is take him back to the shelter, back to that couch and make him sleep for days. But he can't do that, can't even speak before his back is hitting the wall and there's an arm at his throat.

“What are you doing here?” Michael's hissing at Calum's face and for once the werewolf's not even angry.

Not like the last time he had found himself in this very position, all those weeks ago, pressed against a wall with a angry Michael right in his space... right after Calum had mentioned his mother.

_oohhhh, shit!_

“It's your mum isn't it, you're here to see her?” Calum asks slowly, the loosening pressure against his neck telling him he had guessed right. Only for a second before it's back again, with a face full of snarling Michael.

“Shut up, just shut the hell up!” he nearly yells, and Calum's glad that they are the only ones in the corridor as their noses almost brush.

Despite the anger radiating from the other boy, Calum is still calm, not being able to find it in himself to fight back, not when Michael's eyes were so dull and desperate. He wants to help, wants to rub at the skin under his eyes until the dark circles disappear, he wants to make Michael better.

Michael who's breath is hot against Calum's face, who's chest is heaving as he searches the werewolf face looking for some kind of reaction. The only words that come out of Calum's mouth are, “Are you okay?”

Clearly that was the last thing Michael had been expecting to hear, if the blank expression to fall across his face was anything to go by. He steps back a little, arm falling from Calum's neck before he chuckles lightly. “Am I okay? Really, my mum is the one in the freakin hospital, but you ask if  _ I'm _ okay?” he says, voice stretched and breaking through his laughter. 

Michael laughs and laughs and Calum watches as the laughter turns to sobs. The next thing he knows Michael is back in his space, his head settled in the crook of Calum's neck and his hands bunched in his shirt. There's nothing else to do but hold him, arms circling his waist as Calum is left to wonder how long it had been since someone asked Michael that, if anyone ever had.

It's a little awkward, the way Calum's arms hover around Michael for a moment, not sure whether hugging him would make it better or worse. He settles for a light hair stroke, like the vampire boy was a spooked kitten at the shelter. It seems to work, Michael leans in to the touch, his nose brushing up Calum's neck as his sobs get fewer and fewer.

The next thing he knows, there are lips skating over his skin, which he passes off as a accident. But then there's something else, something which could only be tongue smoothing across slowly and the sharp hint of teeth. He has to bite back a moan, because this is really not the moment for this.

“Michael, what are you doing?” Calum asks, trying to arch away from the lips on his neck, despite how good it may feel. “Michael, stop – we can't, you're not okay.” he tries again, when the other boy's hands grab hold of his belt loops, tugging him further into the room right beside them. It's a tiny private room, a single hospital bed in the center, and thankfully unoccupied.

Michael hops up onto the table, leg spread and pulling Calum between them. The setting sun is coming through the open blinds and shining on his face, Calum has a second to take in the tear tracks marring white cheeks before Michael's closing the gap between them, lips strong and just a little desperate against his.

“Then make me okay.” he mutters, hands sliding under Calum's shirt and the werewolf gasps at the icy cool touch against his skin.

He pulls back again but Michael follows, mouth finding Calum's collar bones like if he stops all those bad thoughts will come flooding back. And actually, that would explain a whole lot of this damn relationship if Calum thinks about it. But he doesn't, he just lets Michael try and fail to mark him up, hands getting tangled in dyed hair and asking, “How the shit do you want me to do that?”

“The same way you always have.” Michael says before he's gone in a blur and there's nothing around Calum except a slight breeze and a musky smell with a faint hint of cheese puffs that seems to cling to the vampire boy, who is back before the feel of his touch on Calum's skin has even faded. Michael's dragging him over to the bed, laying down and waving a bottle in his hand. “Distract me.”

“Where the hell did you get-?”

“The doctor at the end of the hall likes to have some 'private time' during his lunch break.” Michael shrugs, guiding Calum to settle over him.

Really he should have something to say about stealing lube from a random dudes office, but there's a gorgeous boy's hands sliding up his body and tugging his shirt off over his head, so Calum thinks he can let it pass. “Distract you?” he asks, trying not to let how much he's enjoying the way Michael's eyes are roaming over his body like a starved man seeing food.

“That's what I said, pup. Try and keep up, yeah.” Michael mutters, lips smirking properly for the first time where they are pressed against Calum's neck.

Rolling his eyes, more fondly than out of proper annoyance, something that's been happening more and more recently, Calum starts to grind down against Michael's thigh. “You can stop being a smart ass, you've already got my shirt off.” he says, hand sliding between them both to palm against the other boy's crotch.

Michael throws his head back, still a hint of fight in his eyes even as he bites down on his lip. “Well maybe I like it.” he challenges, lifting his hips and pressing harder into Calum's hand as he pulls his own shirt off.

“Maybe I like it too.” Calum finds himself saying, leaning down to kiss Michael again while he works into his jeans, feeling him hot and hard in his hand.

Michael's grinning into the kiss, and that's exactly what it is this time. Even in the back of Calum's head there 's a little voice pointing out how this is the first time they're actually kissing, not just like they're trying to hurt each other. It's nice, Michael kisses nice, really nice.

_we should do this more often_

“Maybe I like that you like it.” Michael counters, hands sliding under Calum's jeans and gripping his ass, grinding him down further onto his thigh. It's everything, Michael's tongue against his, his dick jumping in Calum's fist when the werewolf moans into the kiss, hips rocking down for more and suddenly there are words spilling from Calum's mouth.

“Maybe I like you.”

He doesn't realise he said it until Michael freezes under him. It makes Calum stop, pulling back to see Michael staring up at him, his expression completely unreadable as the past couple of seconds hit Calum square in the face. “Shit, god I'm sorry I didn't – fuck have I just ruined this? Just ignore me I -”

But Michael doesn't look like he's listening, shuffling on the bed and for a moment Calum is worried he is going to up and leave. Honestly he hasn't ever considered that the day would come where he would be _scared_ that Michael would leave, but it was definitely a thought that crossed Calum's mind until he noticed that the other boy was just shrugging off his jeans instead.

Before his brain has registered this fact and the small sigh of relief has left Calum's mouth, Michael is already laid back out, eye brow quirked expectantly. “C'mon you gonna fuck me or what, Romeo?”

Clearly he's going for the classic lets-act-like-that-didn't-just-happen move, and Calum is more than happy to go along with that right now, “Wow, how romantic of you, I'm swooning.” he drawls easily, shimmying out of his own jeans and dropping them to the floor.

The eye roll Michael gives is nearly audible as he shifts on to his front, “So swoon those nice fingers of yours to my ass already.” he says, bent over on his elbows with his ass practically wiggling in the air.

_god i wanna bite it_

So he does. Leaning up on the bed and kissing down the base of Michael's spine as he pulls his boxers over his ass, “And who said foreplay was dead.” Calum mutters before nipping his teeth into the smooth skin, making Michael let out a small whine which he tries to muffle.

“Foreplay is over rated.” he huffs, and Calum can tell he's still trying to keep up the cocky attitude, but feels him shudder under his touch when Calum flips open the lube.

“Then you've been having the wrong kind of foreplay.” he replies smoothly, coating his fingers and letting them glide over Michael's hole before slowly pressing the first inside.

Michael's hands clench into fists around the pillow, “Shit - You gonna show me the good kind are you?”

Calum makes a thoughtful sound, delaying his answer to inch a second finger beside the first “Someday, sure but this is hardly the time or place for it.”

“You gonna wine and dine me or summet?” Michael says, rocking backward, fucking himself on Calum's fingers as they scissor and twist inside him. “H-how romantic of you, pup.”

“Nah, I just like to take my time...get you properly begging for it.” Michael hisses, at Calum's words or his third finger slotting between the other two, it's not clear. Maybe a bit of both, but Calum decides to test the theory anyway. “I bet you look good when you beg.” he adds and Michael moans, face sinking into the pillow and his back curving up to meet the thrust of the three fingers working him open.

“Shit, will you just hurry up and get in me already!”

“Ah look at that, a little preview.”

“Fuck you.” Michael grunts and Calum only smirks, he likes having the other boy like this, whimpering and moaning under his touch. Yeah, fucked Michael is definitely one of Calum's favourites.

“Maybe next time. I got you all stretched out now, would be a shame to waste all that work.” he muses, deliberately slowing the pace and making the other boy whine.

Michael glares back at him, “Then get on with it.” he growls as his eyes flash a bright neon green and...

_okay so that's hot_

Taking out his fingers, Calum finally removes his own boxers, stained with a patch of pre cum and wrapping and hand around his cock. “Only if you ask nicely.” he teases, voice cracked as he strokes himself steadily.

“You're a fucking sadist, you know that...fine, please Calum will you fuck me?” Michael asks, shuffling his ass back desperate for some more contact.

“There, was that so hard?” Calum asks, lining himself up.

“I swear to god, you're such a – oh...shit.” Michael's mouth drops open as he feels himself being filled up, Calum pushing in inch by inch, feeling slightly smug at the sight of the blue haired boy's speechlessness.

“You alri-?”

“Just move already – fuck.” Michael gasps, letting out a low groan as soon as Calum starts to fuck into him.

It's slow at first, Calum making sure he's hitting all the spots and angles he can, trying to make the most broken sounds come from the vampire boy as he can. Being fucked seems to shut off Michael's habit of smart ass comments, but it doesn't do anything for his mouth. It's nothing constructive, just a line of curses falling from his lips as Calum hits deeper and harder into him.

He can't look away from Michael's face, shoved up against the pillow. The way he's eyes squeeze shut and his mouth is open in a wide 'O', breathing as heavy as Calum's is, the sound of it and of their bodies moving together filling the small room.

Calum's close, he can already feel it and he curses Michael for always getting him so damn worked up. Taking his revenge by fucking deeper, hitting that spot that makes Michael cry, hand shooting out to grab at the bar at the top of the bed (which is squeaking now with the fast, jerking movements on top of it)

Taking hold of his hips, Calum makes sure to brush that place again and again, until the bar in Michael's hand is denting under his grip. “God – shit, Cal I'm close.” he moans, biting down hard on his lip.

Calum's panting heavily now, so close to coming his movements are nearly frantic, but if anything it only helps, Michael getting louder the rougher he goes until he's whining, whimpering into the sheets, “F-fuck, _Calum_.” and then he's clenching around the tanned boy's cock, adding the extra pressure he needs while he makes the few lasts thrusts into Michael, spilling into him before it becomes too much.

Still breathing heavily, Calum collapses beside him, sweaty and a little sticky but Michael is still here, and his scent is mixed with something else, something distinctly _calum_ and it makes the wolf inside him hum contently.

Of course it doesn't last too long.

“You can go...you don't have to stay.” Michael mumbles, his tone almost resigned, like he's expecting Calum to roll away, pick up his clothes and leave. Just like he had earlier at the shelter.

_but i want to stay this time_

“Nah, it's alright.” Calum sighs, casually hooking his arm over Michael's waist, even though the move makes his heart skip at least five beats. “Can't be bothered to move anyway.” he adds.

A minute later and there's a cool hand covering his own, making Calum smile into the back of Michael's neck. “She has a blood disease, my mum.” Michael says after another pause. “That's why she's in here.”

Calum doesn't know what to say, if he should say anything, if Michael wants him to or to just let him talk. “She's always had it but it got much worse about a year ago.” he goes on, and Calum wonders if he's even aware of how he's started playing with the dark haired boy's hand, tracing each finger and slotting his own between them. “They said it got to her head, that's why she's in here, that's why I drink all the time.”

“You don't.” Calum says immediately. “Not all the time, today was the first time I'd seen you like that in weeks.”

Michael huffs weakly. “Well yeah, but that was only because I -”

He breaks off and Calum can feel him stiffen, the 'because I had you' hanging in the air. Michael knows it, Calum knows it and both boys know the other knows it. But neither confirm, it's like the slip up earlier, they don't talk about it. It's too real, too dangerous to talk about just yet, but the small squeeze of the pale boy's hand is all either one needs right then.

“And the kitten...?” Calum presses on, daring to shift that little bit closer.

“Was for her, thought she might like the company.”

He lifts a hand between them, playing softly with the hair at the base of Michael's neck, almost positive he hears the boy pur soon after. “Good move, people say they're therapeutic you know.”

“Of course...though I can't say the same about dogs.” Michael teases, and Calum can see the cheeky ass grin in his head.

“Dick.” he mutters, nudging Michael's ankle with his foot and feeling the other boy's chuckle through his chest.

He's waiting for the throwback, the sassy comment, the return name calling, but there's nothing. Craning is head over, Calum sees Michael's eyes have closed, his mouth loose as slack jawed as he's not even breathing any more. At first he panics, almost jerking back because _holy shit he's not breathing!_ Then logic and sense kick in and Calum feels like a prized idiot.

_of course vampire's don't breathe when they're sleeping you fucktard_

He feels just a little creepy, watching Michael's face for a moment longer than would probably be normal and honestly, a empty hospital room isn't the best place for a nap. But Calum is sleepy and it's not often he gets to cuddle with a hot guy when he sleeps, so why the hell not make the most of it.

“Goodnight, kitten.” he mumbles, pressing a light kiss to the back of Michael's neck and tightening his hold on his waist. Almost certain that Michael shifts, cuddling further into Calum's warmth before both boy's are drifting off on the tiny hospital bed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more lashton in the next one, I promise :) xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez I'm sorry this took so long again, I know I say that every time but yeah....sorry :S

  
  


_that's it i give up, this so isn't worth it_

_i am in pain. actual physical pain_

_maybe i could just become one of those reality stars and get paid for existing?_

_yeah that sounds good, nice plan there, luke_

It was late afternoon and Luke was splayed across Ashton's bed, surrounded by study notes that he had been staring blankly at for the past hour. He was bored, exam season was awful, he just wanted to graduate already. Graduate and finally leave his parents place, get a nice job and be with Ashton.

That last part was a new thing, sure he'd always wanted to move out as soon as he could, go some place where he didn't have to rely on his parents money to live off, but only in the past few weeks had Ashton slowly started to creep in on these plans. Ashton who was currently at the studio, 'working on a huge commission' like he had been all week.

Which was fine, but Luke missed him and it was even harder to study when he knew that Ashton was due back at any moment. So when the sound of the front gate squeaking reached his ears, he felt a rush like an electric shock flood through him.

Luke could feel it the second Ashton entered the house. It was like there was a change in the air, a current starting under his skin at the steady thumping sound of the werewolf's heart beat. There were footsteps on the stairs, loud and heavy, suggesting that Ashton was taking more than one step at a time to get to the top.

The pen in Luke's hand falls to the bed forgotten when he sees Ashton stood in the doorway of the bedroom, looking at him like he personally hung the moon. “How's the studying going, genius boy?” he asks, as the blonde face-plants into the bed.

“Awful, I've been so bored.” Luke grumbles into the duvet, turning his head slightly to see a pair of toned, jean covered thighs coming over to him. “I don't see why I can't just come with you to the studio and study there with you.”

The bed sinks to the side, then there are a pair of large hands running up his back making Luke sigh. “You know why, babe. Do you really think either of us would get much work done if we're both there?” Ashton laughs, as his hands moving up to Luke's neck and shoulders.

“I guess not...but it would be a lot more fun though.” Luke says, rolling over on to his back and slipping his fingers between Ashton's, tugging the other boy down so he can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

“Oh yeah, how come?” Ashton smirks, dipping down to brush their noses together.

“Well we could do this for a start.” Luke mutters, to connect their lips. It was only meant to be a short kiss, quick and cute, but Ashton had other ideas, following Luke back down and pressing further with more intent this time.

“You're right, that would be more fun.” he says casually once they break apart, lips noticeably more red and 'kissed'. “Much more fun than...fuck, is that even _english_?” he asks, eyes widening as they scan the study notes which are scattered all around them.

Luke sighs, “Welcome to my world. Irwin.” There's fingers running through his hair softly, making him look back at the boy on top of him, who's looking at him with a look in his eyes that Luke still isn't sure if there is a word to describe it. “What?”

Ashton just smiles, it's deceptive really considering a second later he's swooping back down and peppering Luke's face with kisses, giggling “My genius boy.” between assaults.

“Get off, stop it.”

“Nope.”

“ _Ashton._ ”

With a low laugh, the werewolf pulls away taking in the sight of the boy under him, toying with the hem of the shirt he's wearing. “Don't you think it's time you went back to your parents place?” he says and just like that Luke feels the warm fuzzyness in his chest burst at the mention of his parents.

Luke huffs, glancing away “You know, if you wanted to get rid of me _that_ bad you could have just -”

But then Ashton's eyes are widening quickly, hands darting out to cup Luke's face and turn him back. “No, no! I didn't mean it like that, babe. I love having you here, you know that.” he says quickly, “But even though I  _definitely_ don't mind seeing you all in my clothes...like, at all.” he smirks and Luke's glad that he can't blush at the way Ashton's gaze moves up his body before he finishes off adding, “I think you need to go and maybe grab a few things, you can't keep wearing my shirts forever.”

Luke does his best to try and cross his arms over his chest and look pouty. “Maybe I like wearing your shirts.” he says, chin tilting defiantly but Ashton just fixes him with a unimpressed look. 

“Babe.”

Rolling his eyes, Luke sighs, “Ugh, fine I'll go tomorrow.” he mutters, “But I'm not happy about it.”

“Well, we can't have that can we?” Ashton says slowly, hands sliding down Luke's sides and under his shirt. “I think my boy needs a break don't you?” he smirks, eyes locking with Luke's as he kisses down his exposed stomach.

Luke can only nod quickly, head falling back on to the bed and a small gasp leaving his mouth when the button on his jeans is flicked open. 

He really loves it when Ashton gets home.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


**Ash** :  _i need to take you out on a date_

  
  


**Luke** : _babe you got me already_

  
  


**Ash** : _no i_ _ **need to**_

  
  


**Ash** :  _ isla says so _

  
  


**Ash:** _ apparently i've been neglectful in my courtship duties in not asking you out properly _

  
  


**Ash** :  _ and isla is displeased _

  
  


**Ash:** _ fuck she's getting the brushes to beat me over the head _

  
  


**Ash:** _ just say you'll go on a lunch date with me! _

  
  


**Ash:** _ save me luke!! _

  
  


**Luke:** _ hmmm _

  
  


**Luke:** _ let me think about that for a moment _

  
  


**Ash:** _ Lukey please these things are pointy! _

  
  


**Ash:** _ really pointy _

  
  


**Ash:** _ they hurt! _

  
  


**Ash:** _**ffs just say you'll go on a date with me!!!!!!!!** _

  
  


**Luke:** _ugh, fiiiiine if i have to_

  
  


**Ash:** …

  
  


**Ash:** _you make it sound like a chore_

  
  


**Luke:** _have you_ _ **seen**_ _how you eat??_

  
  


**Ash:** _i resent that_

  
  


_~_

 

“Ash this is your lunch break do you really have to work?” Luke sighs, pouting slightly over his huge coffee cup at the werewolf boy, who is scribbling away in a sketch book opposite him.

The cafe is a small one, caught somewhere between the vampire side of town, with it's posh bars and sleek air of sophistication and the rougher districts of the factories and uniformed worker houses. Ashton had found it a few weeks ago, having made the happy discovery that the human couple who owned it were more than willing to provide an alternative blood supply for Luke. The wife's sister working at the hospital and able to have access to the storage banks.

It wouldn't have been necessary if Luke hadn't been so adamant about not wanting to harm Ashton in the long run, with neither of them knowing how long it would be until there was a ready supply like the old blood banks. So they had started paying a visit every so often and Luke had gotten used to drinking blood from large coffee cups, while Ashton sat and sketched as he ate his lunch.

“It's not for work.” Ashton mutters, eyes flicking up only for a second to search Luke's face, lingering around his nose and mouth, frowning.

“What are you drawing then?”

“You.”

It doesn't matter that Ashton has told him this before, or how he knows the sketch book perched on his knees is almost filled with pictures of his face over the past few weeks, the admission still makes Luke's stomach flip. It's the way Ashton makes that one word so full of emotion when it leaves his lips, the way his eyes flicker up to meet Luke's every time.

Each time Luke thinks he's getting better at recovering his brain function when this happens, even managing a short scoff this time. “I just don't get why though?”

“Because you're hot.” Ashton says, casually like he's not even thinking about it, but his mouth curls up at the corners in a small smirk.

Luke rolls his eyes, “But you draw me _every day_.”

Ashton shrugs, “You look hot every day and I want you to see it.”

“You're ridiculous.” the blonde boy mutters, attempting to hide his face behind the dinner plate sized coffee cup.

“And you're ridiculously hot.”

“Shut up.” Luke tells him, but Ashton can still spot the crinkling signs of a smile in the corner of his eyes.

“Face it, Lucas you're my muse.” he says fondly, focusing on shading the shadow of the vampire's jaw.

But Luke's not paying him attention, too busy watching the group of three young werewolves who just walked into the cafe. Usually he wouldn't give it a second thought, it wasn't that uncommon in this section of the city for a mix of all kinds to be seen around.

It was just... _something_... something about these three that set Luke on edge. The fact that this wasn't the first time he had seen these three the past couple of days, the fact that they always seemed to be hanging around in the places he and Ashton went to. The fact that at any single time there was always one pair of cold eyes from the three fixed on them both.

He knew that Ashton was considered different, that his father had been a well respected member of his community and that Ashton's leaving would have brought some damage to his reputation. It wasn't exactly uncommon for people like them to be treated like utter shit by their own people, god knows what would happen if it was seen that the two kinds were bonding in any shape or form.

Luke's jaw tightened as he tried to ignore the boring gaze of the werewolves' who had settled down on the table across the room. Most likely they wouldn't be taking a vampire sat with one of their own, outcast or no, very lightly. And if Luke was right in his thinking it was the same group, then they would have known very well that he and Ashton were more than that.

And Luke would be damned if they were going to get to Ashton because of it.

“Ugh, I've had it. It's officially impossible.” Ashton groans, his head falling back against the wood panelled wall. Luke frowns at him questioningly, all thoughts of the three werewolves seeping from his mind.

“What's impossible?”

Ashton leans forward, pencil in hand as he stares at Luke's face. “It's impossible to get the boopable-ness of your nose down on paper.” he says, as he 'boops' the end of the blonde's nose with the pencil, a stupidly wide smile on his face that Luke can't help but return.

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


It's later in the afternoon when Luke chooses to finally return to his parent's home, hoping that with the time his parents would be too busy at work to be at home and he could just grab his shit and get out of there. Sure enough, as he walks in the main door, there's no sign of either of them. Only the chattering of a few of the household staff followed him up the stairs to his room.

From the looks of it, the room hadn't been touched since he had left nearly two months ago now. There was still shirts scattered around on the floor, his bed still unmade when usually the staff came in and saw to it. Luke can only imagine that they had been instructed by his parents not to enter the room at all.

There's a decent sized bag on the top of his wardrobe which Luke grabs, throwing it on his bed before taking a few things from his cupboards, his ipod, his song book and a few clothes, packing them all away. Zipping the bag up he takes what could possibly be one last look around his room, at the posters his parents hated so much, before he sees his guitar sat in the corner.

Luke grabs that too.

When he gets downstairs there's no more chatter and Luke can instantly feel why and then he sees it. His father, sat in one of the great huge armchairs that they have in the middle of the hallway, watching Luke come towards him with a small smirk on his face.

“I was wondering when you would come back.” he drawls, his tone bored and vaguely uninterested before his nose scrunches up, “You reek of dog, disgusting.” his father mutters, eyes full of disdain as they scan Luke's body.

The blonde can't help but stiffen up, his back straight and determined not to let his father go as easy this final time. “Sorry, all the wild sex I've been having with my werewolf boyfriend must have rubbed off.” he says, casually, satisfaction bubbling up in his chest at the shocked look on his father's usually expressionless face.

“You're leaving then I take it.” he replies, hard and to the point in an attempt to brush past the comment. “To be with your mutt?...I wonder how long it will be before you end up killing him, it can't be easy sticking to your _diet_ now you've lost your blood banks?”

And well, _that_ hit a little too fucking close to home for Luke's taste. “It was you wasn't it.” he breathes, his fist tightening around the handle of his bag. “You told the police just where to find them, just so I might hurt Ashton?” he adds, a slight snarl slipping into his voice.

“God you're more pathetic than I thought.” Luke says, throwing the bag over his shoulder and making for the door. He doesn't get more than a few steps before another thought manages to get through that haze of anger in his brain. The three werewolves in the cafe, on the street corner, their eyes locked on him and Ashton.

Luke turns back to his father, hoping that all the anger inside him shows in his eyes. “Oh and I hope you're not paying your little attack dogs too much. If they try and get to Ashton, I'll kill them.”

His father laughs. Loudly, which does nothing to help the whole angry situation. “I don't know what you mean, boy.”

“Don't play dumb.” Luke snaps. “I know it's you, just like everything else has been. But it wont work this time, you wont win.”

“Clearly you're deaf as well as stupid, I don't know anything about this but go ahead blame me if it make you feel any better.” his father says, waving a hand dismissively and not even casting his son a glance.

“I wont let you ruin this.” Luke tells him, not looking over his shoulder when he heads for the door, hearing his father's voice one last time.

“Remember when you leave here, you can't come back.”

“Don't worry, I don't plan to.”

 

~

 

Luke dancing on his toes as he waits for Ashton to answer the door. When he hears the latch slide back he stops, smiling widely as he picks up his bag off the floor.

“So...I kind of need a place to stay.” he says, “If you'll have me?”

Ashton doesn't reply, only reaches a hand out, cupping the back of Luke's neck as he brings their mouths together. Both boys are giggling into the kiss as Luke's pulled into the house and up the stairs, his bag sat forgotten in the hallway.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's only about two chapters left of this baby before it's over. Thanks to everyone who's stuck around this long and I hope you like it :) xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves, here is the second to last chapter I hope you like it!

 

Calum was bored.

Which was a pretty dangerous situation when he had a habit of over-thinking when he's brain was left unoccupied for too long. What ever thought had been laying on his mind became impossible to ignore and he would analyse ever detail until he went totally mad.

Naturally, because the universe was a kind and lovely thing, the only thing on his mind right now was Michael.

Calum didn't want to think any more about Michael. Michael scared him, thinking about Michael scared him, thinking about any possible strong feelings he might - almost definitely - have for Michael fucking scared him.

So he cleaned. He cleaned the cages, he cleaned the floors, the tools with music filling the silence that the sound of the animals couldn't. When he was beginning to think that he was actually wearing down the metal operation table with the number of times he had scrubbed it, Calum gives in and moves on to the office.

Which turns out to be a mistake in the whole, 'distract myself from thinking about Michael' plan. The whole room screams of Michael, all Calum can see is the image of the other boy curled up on the couch with the raggedy blanket thrown over him. It's everything, the desk that they had shoved each other up against countless times, the waste paper can that Michael got his foot stuck in one time, the small collection on veterinary text books on a shelf that fell on to Calum's head when his back hit the wall, Michael's teeth nipping at the skin of his neck.

Michael's everywhere it's almost suffocating.

The duster lands with a soft flop as it hits the ground, the sound of Calum falling onto the couch is significantly louder, his hands coming up to cover his face as he groans. He knows why he's like this, why he's having trouble pushing the thoughts away like he usually would and yeah sure maybe the week of a full moon wasn't the best time to have an emotional crisis but Calum blames nature. Fuck nature. Fuck the moon. Fuck his stupid feelings.

_it can't get much worse than this_

“Pup?”

His stomach does a small flip at the nickname, because that is what it had become in recent weeks.

… _.of course. why the fuck not_

“You alright?...You fucking stink of bleach.” Michael says and Calum glances over to see the vampire stood by the door, his hand covering up his nose which is scrunched up rather adorably.

“Been cleaning.” Calum grunts, not moving off the couch.

“Yeah trust me I noticed, people two blocks away noticed.”

Calum sighs, rolling over on the couch as if turning his back to Michael would help in any way. “If it's bothering you, then feel free to leave.” he says, voice teetering on the edge of snappiness.

There's a pause and in his head, he can almost see Michael's mouth open a close like a fish. “Hey that's not – I didn't say...” he starts before there's silence again, and Calum is _this close_ to looking back around to check if the vampire was still there when a Michael speaks again, quieter than before. “Do you want me to?”

It's just like that day when Michael was the one on the couch, sleepy and with the same strange vulnerability in his voice as he did right then. It makes Calum's heart skip, his skin prickle but like that day, he just can't stop himself from being a dick. “It's really up to you.” he mutters, glancing back over his shoulder and not missing the split second of hurt that shows in the pale boy's expression before he turns to leave.

Calum's heart rate picks right back up when he realises, his legs swinging down and landing on the floor with a thump.

_For fucks sake, cal stop being such a child_

“No, I don't.” he calls out before Michael can make it any further than the doorway. “I don't want you too, sorry I'm just a little stressed.” he sighs, elbows settling on his knees as his hands rub at his face.

“I know something that could help with that.” Michael says, and Calum's actually glad to hear the suggestive tone in his voice. “But I can't really stick around today, it's just a flying visit.”

Calum snorts. “So what you got on that's more important than sucking my dick?”

It was the wrong thing to say, the look on Michael's face says that Calum couldn't have possible timed that any worse. He's shuffling his feet, not looking at the werewolf boy on the couch. “I was just on the way to the, er, the hospital, you know.” he mutters, messing with his hair as he does.

“Shit, Michael I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...I'm a jerk I -”

“No, no it's fine.” Michael cuts across him, smiling tightly and slowly, so slowly it's not obvious if he knows he's actually doing it, he's stepping closer. “It's just, it's mum's review today, they look at how she's been and what they could try next and...fuck, I don't even know why I'm here, I just -”

He turns to leave again and Calum jumps up of the couch. “Wait, Michael, wait.” he says quickly and his hand is outstretched like he was about to grab his shoulder and pull him back. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah like, I don't know.” Michael mutters, fiddling with his fingers. “I guess just after the last time, when it all got to me a bit and you were there and...no it's fucking stupid.”

“Michael. Do you want me to go with you?” Calum asks gently.

“I'm a big boy, pup, I can go to a hospital on my own.” Calum fixes him with a 'bullshit' stare and Michael sighs quietly. “But maybe if you came too, it wouldn't be so awful.”

  
  


~

  
  


Calum had never really been a petty guy, but he wasn't exactly above himself to deny that there was a hint of smugness as Michael claimed “Yes, he's my friend got a problem with that?” to the same tight arsed receptionist at the hospital desk. The barely contained look of fury on her face as Michael dragged Calum away, putting a definite spring in his step.

(Which had nothing to do with the fact that the other boy's hand was wrapped around his wrist, brushing the skin not covered by the fabric of the hoody, not at all.)

“Some people are so fucking stupid.” he muttering as they wait for the lift.

“You were literally saying the same things not two months ago.” Calum points out as the doors open with a ding.

Michael waves a hand dismissively. “Jesus, you're going to hold on to that forever aren't you. People change, pup, it's called character development but for real life.”

“Oh really? So what changed your mind?” the werewolf asks, with a lilt to his voice that obviously suggests he already knows what the answer is but he takes a little pride at seeing Michael shuffle on his feet while pressing the floor button rapidly as if that would get them there, and away from this question, any faster.

“Shut up, Hood.”

 

~

 

On the walk down to the room, Michael isn't breathing. It's not like he has to or anything, but the mix of emotions clouding his brain seems to cut of the train of thought that seems to do it at a subconscious level.

He hates the reviews, hates how every month he has to sit in a room of doctors who's job it is to fix people, and listen to them tell him how they can't do that with his mother. There's always something else as well, 'further complications' they call them and Michael can't shake the feeling that his mum is slowly slipping away from him.

They reach the door of the small consultation room where he goes every time, knowing that the doctors are in there, knowing he's going to leave with another problem, more bad news to add to the pile of 'further complications'. It makes his chest tight and his brain fog over, he needs a drink the drink always helped with that.

His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides and Michael can't help but glance down at Calum's hand hanging there inches from his own. The urge to take hold of it in his own is so strong, that's why he asked him here after all because sure the drink helps, but Calum makes him _better._

It's not a decision he has to make in the end, just then there's a warmth, burning and comforting wrapping around his hand, fingers slipping between his own. Michael looks up, seeing Calum's eyes crinkled in a small smile as he squeezes his hand gently. The touch is anchoring him in place, he's not slipping away, the fogginess in his head starts to fade the more Michael focuses on the feeling of the hand in his as he opens the door.

There's three doctor's in the room, two vampires and one human, the same ones Michael has seen for months but would be damned if he could remember any of their names. One chair sits across the table in front of them and he starts to feel Calum pull away, clearly not sure if he is expected to stay or not. Michael only grabs a chair from the side wall, dragging it and the werewolf over to the table, the doctor's gaze flashing as he places it down with a thump, looking pointedly at it until Calum takes the hint.

There's the same old drivel at the start, all statistics with no hope and theories that could work but he shouldn't get his hopes up. It's tiring, draining to listen to and the emotionless drawl of the two vampire doctors get's more and more irritating as the minutes drag on.

Eventually the human doctor speaks up, obviously seeing that the constant stream of numbers and painfully straight to the point approach is doing more harm than good. “The problem is your mother's body is regenerating as we would expect a vampire to do.” he starts, his voice is soft and easy which Calum is glad for the moment he feels Michael's hold on his hand lessen as the doctor starts talking. “But what that is just isn't enough to combat the rapid deterioration of her brain functions.”

Michael stiffens, his free hand clenching on the chair arm and he looks at the way his and Calum's hands fit, how the paleness of his skin contrasts with the darker honey tones of the other boy. It's actually kind of beautiful.

“So what does that mean?” he asks, “Why can't she fix herself?”

“The way your kind restores cells is you create them at a far more rapid rate than say, a human, but once the cell is formed that is it, there's no further development. If they're damaged they have to form more, they wont fix themselves.”

“Which is why they look younger and live for longer?” Calum asks, obviously having more confidence to address the human man, who nods kindly.

“Exactly, you simply preserve yourselves in that state.” the doctor explains, “Now, your mother's brain is deteriorating much faster than her body can produce new cells and these cells can't learn to fight the affects of the disease in her blood quickly enough. Basically her type of regeneration isn't the right kind to over come this, it needs to be more adapting than preserving.”

“Like a werewolf.”

The human doctor smiles at Calum again, “That would be my theory yes. Your body is always working to actively fix problems within it's self, like a human but at a much quicker rate which is why your kind are rarely ill.” he explains, only for the doctor on his left to snort loudly.

“Don't get the boy's hopes up, Chris, you know the chances, the likely hood of this actually happening are second to none.” he mutters.

“Of what happening, is there a way?” Michael asks, eyes wide as he sits forward in his seat.

The human, Chris sighs, “I have a theory that if we switch your mother's blood supply from a humans to a werewolf's than this would help to bring on the same kind of regeneration we need.” he says slowly. “But it would require a direct blood source, by the time the blood is drained and packaged up the effects wouldn't be nearly enough.”

“And the chances of finding a werewolf who would be willing to do such a thing for one of our kind is laughable.” the doctor on the end adds, rather harshly.

Michael wants to slap the uppity, self righteous looks off their faces, but before he can even twitch Calum's voice reaches his ears again, his words making Michael's bones turn as cold as his skin.

“I will do it.”

All eyes in the room turn to Calum, sat in the chair and resolutely not looking at anyone but Dr Chris. His jaw is set in a hard line, slightly tilted as if challenging the other two vampires to say anything, if Michael wasn't in a state of shock he would feel proud.

Dr Chris is the first to speak, again it's slow and his words seem to be chosen carefully. “It wont be easy, they'll be a lot of blood needed and it will be quite dangerous for you.” he warns, and this seems to snap Michael out of it.

“No. You're not doing it, we'll find someone else, there has to be someone else.” he says, eyes wide and he's staring at the doctor's like he's pleading with them, like they already have a alternative stashed under the table.

“We don't know how much longer that might take, the longer we wait the more of your mother's brain function is lost beyond recovery.” Dr Chris tells him and Calum can hear Michael swallow loudly beside him as his hands grip the chair arms.

_shit he really cares_

“If your friend says he will do it then we need to start the procedure as soon as possible -”

“He's not doing it.” Michael cuts in while Calum glares next to him.

“Oh yeah, you gonna stop me?”

“We'll find someone else.”

“There _is_ no one else. Do you want you're mother better or not?”

Their eyes are boring into one another's, the tension in the room seems to increase a fuck load in those passing moments. Calum can see Michael thinking of a reply, he knows he's right and Michael knows it too. Which is why a second later his chair is hitting the floor with a thud and the blue haired boy is shooting out of the door in a blur.

Calum sighs, watching the door until it swings shut with a tiny click before turning back to the doctors at the table. “So, what's the plan?”

  
  


~oOo~

  
  


Obviously Luke was already very familiar with some of the perks that came with the week of the full moon. But this was the first one during a time when he and Ashton were actually together, which meant a hell of a lot more things that had never happened before.

Sex things to be exact.

Like now, the morning of the full moon when Luke woke up to something hard and obviously dick-like pressed against his thigh. It wasn't exactly a unheard of thing and Luke didn't exactly mind, especially not when Ashton lips began trailing down his neck and a hand ghosting over his stomach tugging him closer.

“Hey, you.” Ashton mumbles, nipping at Luke's ear and making his back arch beautifully against him, only succeeding in having the blonde's ass press up against his crotch.

“Well, good morning.” Luke laughs as his boyfriend hisses against the skin of his neck at the contact. The hand slipping into his boxers and wrapping around him making the laughter turn into sharp breaths quickly enough.

Ashton starts to slowly move his fist over Luke, “Fancy making it a great one?” he asks, smirking into the back of his neck and well, who was Luke to say no?

'Making it a great one' ended up with Ashton on his back, hands gripping tight onto Luke's hips while his claws scratch at the skin, as the blonde boy rides him slow and deep. The marks Ashton leaves with his claws seem to stay this time and Luke can feel the tingling from the pink lines blooming on his body.

Ashton's got his head thrown back into the pillows, mouth open so Luke can see how his fangs are starting to show the closer he gets and that really shouldn't send the shiver down his spine but it does. They're both close, getting more sloppy with their movements and the room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, Luke's breathy moans and Ashton growl's as they rumble through his chest.

Luke wants to see his face, his expression, Ashton never lets him see his eyes when he's close, keeping them tightly shut. It wasn't something Luke paid much attention too the first few times, hell he didn't open his eyes most of the time either, but damnit he wanted Ashton to look at him when he came, just once.

But it didn't happen, Luke being too caught up in the moment, being too close to the edge to stop and force those eyes to look into his own when they both finished. They lay there a while afterwards, the sunlight creeping through a crack in the curtains and spilling over Luke's hair as it tickled Ashton's chin from where the taller boy was pillowed on his chest.

They both know they wont get this in the morning, not what with has to happen that night. So they both lay there in silence, tangled in each others arms and only moving to press kisses onto the other's skin.

_yeah, this is a pretty great morning_

 

_~_

 

Luke doesn't go with Ashton to his changing place. It's not without lack of trying, every month he asks and every month it's the same answer.

“I don't want you to see me like that, it's not pretty and I might hurt you.”

Which is fine, it is Luke knows how personal the change is to werewolves, know how vulnerable it would make them feel to be watched as something takes them over from inside. So he usually lets it go, but usually there hadn't been a group of suspicious wolves on their heels, usually Luke wasn't afraid that something might happen to Ashton while he was on his own.

“I really think I should go with you this time.” he says, watching as Ashton packs up the bag he takes with him on these nights, a spare set of clothes, some food and water.

The curly haired boy sighs and Luke can see he's getting frustrated, “I told you no, babe.” he says, shoving a jumper into the bag with a little more force than he usually would.

Luke walks around the bed, pulling out all the stops and latching his arms around Ashton's waist, “I just worry about you, you know.” he mutters, chin caught over his shoulder which he presses a quick kiss onto.

“Well you shouldn't, I'll be fine, I always am.” Ashton says, shrugging Luke off him and zipping the bag shut.

“But I just -”

“Luke! Stop.” Ashton growls, and Luke takes a step back when the outer ring of colour in his boyfriend's eyes flashes a bright green. He knows that the main reason for Ashton's moodyness is the timing, knows that he wouldn't get this frustrated over a few questions normally, but it still hurts a little. Just like it hurts when Ashton slings the bag on his back, muttering “I'll see you in the morning.” and not even looking back before he's jogging off down the stairs, leaving Luke stood in the bedroom watching him go.

 

~

 

As much fun as the week running up to the full moon can be, the actual night is one of Luke's least favourite. Especially this time, this time Luke doesn't leave the bedroom he tries calling Michael and Calum but neither of them pick up. He wonders if Calum lets Michael go with him for his change, since they are all each other can talk about for months now.

The thought makes him feel lonely, all the lights in the house are off, it's not like he needed them much in the first place but the darkness seems fitting to his mood. Laying face down on the bed, he snorts to himself, for the first time in his life he's actually embracing the 'true vampire' style in all it's broody glory .

_if only mum and dad could see me now_

_bet they'd be so proud_

There's a knock downstairs and Luke half heartedly rises from the covers, but there's no follow up sound so he returns to broodingly face planting the bed. Sometime later he drifts off, not quite asleep but not awake, enough to think that the extra banging is in a dream perhaps but enough asleep not to realise what was happening before it was too late.

Before the creaking of floor boards reached his ears, the bang of the door against the wall jolting him up. There's a flash and Luke's body jerks out of control, what feels like strings of searing fire burning through his chest, from the wires latched onto it.

“That was too easy, I'm almost disappointed.” A low rough voice laughs through the room, the silhouettes of three men gather around the bed, Luke still writhing from the shocks racking his body.

Luke can't barely keep his eyes open, fighting the spasms of his muscles the best he can. He know's these guys, knows what they want and he'll be damned if they're getting it. “H-he's not-t here.” he manages, through his gritted teeth, feeling the tips of his fangs prick against his lips as the pain draws them out.

More laughing from the men, “Who? You're dirty excuse of a werewolf boyfriend?” the second guy sneers and Luke swears he sees red at that, but there's nothing he can do because the next thing he know's the third is holding up a bat in his hand and Luke's eyes widen as the realisation dawns on him.

“Oh we're not here for him.” The second man continues, his words followed by a swing of the bat and a steering pain before Luke's world turns dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should I run?? I feel like I should run rn......haha pls don't hate me...


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so not the last chapter like I said, there's more that I wanted to put in and I just wanted to get something out here because it's been so long, like fuck! 
> 
> So yeah, I'm sorry for the wait just a couple more left now!!

Ashton’s paws dug deep into the ground as he ran.

His instincts were sharp, drawing him further into the forest, mindlessly focusing on some scent in the air to chase. Usually it was the part of the change Ashton hated, the way he could slowly feel his humanity bleeding away and letting the wolf take control. He’d fight the instinct as long as he could, hold on to that last part of rational thought like a life line, terrified of what he might do without that control.

This night was different.

This time Ashton let it happen, if anything he encouraged it. He wanted the wolf to take over completely, wanted to forget the anger and frustration burning up in his chest. Most of all wanted to forget the sound of Luke’s voice when he watched Ashton pick up his bag, forget the crushed look on his face as Ashton stormed out, forget how he didn’t turn back the minute he left the house when his irritation had turned into a pool of regret which settled heavily in his stomach.

For the first time Ashton welcomes the change, craves it, anything to make the memory of Luke’s sad eyes disappear if only for a while.

There’s a relief that’s almost calming as he runs, further and faster into the woods, the way he can sense the presence of other wolves close by.

He should ignore it, should move away. They all have their ground, their sections that they or their pack have claimed. It’s a way of avoiding conflict during the change, a basic rule that they can follow even when they’re running on nothing but instinct.

But right now it’s Ashton’s instinct that’s the problem, his wolf is feeding of the anger he had at himself, the need for distraction. The need was pulling him towards the other wolves, out of the small territory he and Calum had claimed for themselves.

Ashton had no pack, not since he left his home and felt the bond tying him to the others fade away like a fraying rope, strand by strand until it snapped. Then he found Calum, two wolves on their own who considered each other the closest thing to family they had. Calum _was_ Ashton’s pack, if they could even  be called that, if it was even possible to _be_ a pack with only two members.

Calum would say this is stupid, Ashton would probably agree if he was thinking. But he wasn’t, his wolf wanted a fight and he knew how to get one.

There were four of them, he could feel them, banding together as Ashton treaded the line of their boarder. Coming to a clearing, a small one at that, but enough room between the trees for the moonlight to spill through onto the ground, Ashton spots them.

There’s only two, close enough for the light to catch their fur as they slink between the trees opposite him. He sees the rusty coloured wolf first, almost ginger against the trees with his blue eyes fixed on Ashton. The second is darker, not quite black more chocolate brown blending in with the forest around her. She has more rank over the slightly larger ginger wolf, this is obvious in the way he lags behind her as they move out of the shadows, but the only reason Ashton notices her is the flash of her teeth as she emerges slowly, her growl low and full of warning.

The other two are off to the sides, keeping out of sigh. Then there’s a third, coming up behind Ashton on his right, something tugs in his chest as the wolf approaches. Pure black and honey brown eyes which take in the scene around him as he pads up to Ashton’s side, his sandy tipped ears twitching.

_Calum_

His packmate whines, it's like a question if the way his furrowed expression didn't make clear already. The _dude what the fuck are you doing?_ that his human self would be saying is all too obvious.

Ashton ignores him, keeping his attention on the female getting closer and closer to the middle of the clearing, the ginger male at her rear side, daring him to make the move. Calum's there, nudging at Ashton's side and trying to force him back. It's irritating and Ashton's too far gone to stop his wolf from snapping at his best friend.

Calum's wolf recoils, frowning before only pressing back harder, more insistently making Ashton growl. The female stiffens, crouching down and snarling making both the two wolfs stop and look at her.

This is what Ashton's wolf wanted, it's just about grinning at how close it is to getting it. The next moment he's sinking onto his front legs and his hearts racing, his wolf is practically buzzing in anticipation. Even Calum can't stop him as Ashton launches forward.

All around them birds fly from the trees, as the loud ferocious growls cut through the tense air of the clearing as the two wolfs crash together. The white flash of teeth the last thing Ashton sees before his world becomes a blur of claws and fur.

 

~oOo~

 

He's in a box.

That's the first thing that Luke realises when he opens his eyes, his vision blurry and his head throbbing. He's in a box in the back of the van from the feel of it, unless the knock to the head was worse than he thought and the place is just spinning that way.

He tries to stretch his body out but his feet find the sides almost instantly, keeping his knees bent. At this point Luke's just happy he has enough head space to sit up straight, his body aches and he can't remember the last time this happened, if it ever did. There must be something laced in the metal of the box, he figures, silver perhaps, and it's slowly bleeding through to his bones, making Luke's muscles seize up and tense.

There's a decent sized hole in the corner, rough and the metal around the edges was sharp like it had been drilled or something whacked through it. The warm glow of the street lights flash through the gap and Luke tries to focus on the pattern of the flashes as his head begins to stop spinning.

When the lights disappear and the road becomes bumpy, sending the box rattling in the back of the van and Luke's focus is pulled away as he's clinging onto the sides for balance, that's finally when the panic catches up with him. He's banging on the walls, hands curled into fists and yelling out as he only manages shallow dints to the thick metal.

“Let me out of here! Let me go!”

There's another light streaming through the hole now, bright white and harsh as it glares straight into Luke's eyes. “Aw, looks like the princess is finally awake.” a deep voice coos over the sound of the engine.

Luke surges forward, slamming his hands against the walls. “Shut up and let me out of here, you shit.” he growls, trying to get a decent look at the man behind the torch but the light was too blinding. The man just chuckles which only makes Luke punch harder at the walls, “I said let me go, or I'll -”

“You'll what?” his captor sneers and he can't see it, but Luke can hear the smirk in his voice. “You gonna call for your pup of a boyfriend?” he says, spitting through the gap, making Luke shoot back as it lands on his face. “Do it, scream out for him so he knows just where to find you. Tell him to come and get his little gift.” he finishes, smacking his hand over the gap and plunging Luke's terrified face into darkness.

_ashton_

_ashton_

_they're after ashton why_

Over the rumble of the engine and the tires on the road, Luke hears it and his chest floods with cold, freezing cold terror. The distant sound of a wolf howl, long and drawn out but there was something wrong, something different that triggered the sharp cold to flood Luke's body.

It was in pain.

Logically, Luke knew how many werewolves there were, knew how many would be out tonight and that it could be anyone of them.

The van comes to a stop and all around there are sounds of doors being slammed shut and footsteps gathering around all sides of the box. Suddenly he's moving, well the container is, Luke can hear the shallow pants of the men carrying it and he heads for the gap again, making as much movement as possible. He catches glimpses of what looks like a beat up garage, getting closer as the men carry him towards it.

“Where am I? Who the fuck are you?” Luke keeps yelling as he bangs against the sides as much as he can, who ever these people are they can be damned if he's just going to sit here quietly any more.

The next thing Luke knows is that he's been placed down, none too gently in the slightest. “I liked him better when he was unconscious.” One of the five men say, giving the box a hard kick as Luke keeps yelling and thrashing about.

“Can't we just shock him again? Just a little, I can't be arsed listening to his whining all night?”

“Tempting, but we need him awake for when the mutt gets here or else there's no plan is there.”

They're talking about Ashton and it's making Luke's gut churn with every passing second, nothing but questions and blind panic swirling around his head. He's not even thinking about what he is yelling any more, as long as he makes as much noise as possible.

What their plan is, Luke doesn't know, only that they need Ashton here, they need him to find Luke. It's all he's wanted ever since he realised there were these people in the house, just Ashton back with him, safe and happy. But that's what these people wanted too, only they want to what? Hurt Ashton? Kill him?

Either way, there wasn't a single good outcome that Luke could think of if Ashton were to find him. If it meant that he was kept safe and alive then Luke hoped he'd never see him again.

 

~oOo~

 

Ashton felt like shit.

Sure after a change it was always a rough few hours being back in human form, like having a hangover but your whole body is just one big headache. He was fine with that though, this Ashton could deal with, it was nothing compared to the feeling of Luke possibly hating him for the night before.

He needed to fix it, then everything would be alright.

When Ashton woke up, it was only a short run back to the small garage where he kept his things, his wolf knew not to trail too far away during the change. Not even bothering to put shoes on, just throwing on shorts and a hoodie over his head, Ashton jumps in his car and sets off home.

_god, i hope he's still there_

Halfway home and he's starting to regret skipping the minute it would have taken to put his shoes on. His feet are starting to hurt against the roughness of the car pedals but Ashton just pushes it aside. There's no sign of life when he reaches the house and for the first time Ashton is hesitant to go inside. It can be safely said that there are not many things in life that Ashton is scared of, but sat in his beat up car outside his on house, not even sure if the love of his life is still inside it, yeah he's pretty fucking scared to find out the answer.

Something is off the moment he steps out of the car. It's in the air, thick and heavy just this sense of _wrong_ that surrounds the place and it makes Ashton pick up his pace, heart beginning to hammer faster and faster. He's thinking nothing but everything at once as he pulls the door open, the scents hitting him square in the face, scents that don't belong here, that have Ashton's blood boiling and a growl rumbling through his chest.

“Luke?” he yells, skipping the worried stage and flying right into blind panic when he spots Luke's phone at the foot of the stairs where it had clearly been dropped. Then he's hurdling up the stairs to where the smell is thickest and Ashton kind of wants to throw up at the thought of someone else being here, in _his_ house around _his_ boyfriend.

The desperation takes over when there's no reply, Ashton's throwing open the wardrobes, the cupboards under the stairs anywhere Luke might be. The feeling in the bedroom is making him dizzy when he takes his phone from his pocket, something happened here he knows it, can feel it. Ashton's fingers are shaking and he actually has to focus to select Calum's number from the list.

He paces the room, waiting for the other boy to pick up. “Good morning, drama queen, feeling better are -” Calum drawls and any other time Ashton would follow up on the clearly slightly pissed edge to his friends voice, but today there's no time.

“Cal, someone's taken Luke, he's not at the house.” Ashton cuts him off, hand tugging at his hair so hard it hurts. “I can smell them still, I don't know where they've gone. He's not here I've looked everywhere and I-”

“Ash!” Calum says, it's harsh and sudden but it gets him to stop talking. “Just breath yeah, think. Follow the scent as far as you can and keep in touch, I'll meet up with you soon.” he adds, calm and steady and Ashton can already start to notice his breathing evening out.

“Yeah, yeah okay, just hurry, Cal I can't loose him.”

“I will and Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“We're gonna find him, it's going to be alright.”

Ashton sighs, coming to a stand still in the middle of the room. “I really hope you're right.”

 

~oOo~

 

Luke's head hurt.

It was this damn box, he knew it was, the people who took him must have lined it with something that would keep him from breaking out. It was odd really, usually his ring kept all that kind of stuff from effecting him, so why wasn't it -

_wait_

_my ring_

_where is it_

Luke clasped his hands together, running over his left pinky finger like that would make the ring that was normally placed there, magically return. In the panic of everything happening he hadn't even noticed it was missing, they must have taken it when they knocked him out. Clearly these people knew just what they were doing, which didn't help to calm his nerves at all.

There was the sharp sound of metal on metal and Luke winced, it was like someone's nails on a chalkboard he hated it. The sound went right through him and the next thing he heard was the sound of voices. It had been a while since his captors had left him in this room, getting bored of stood around watching a box they knew he couldn't get out of.

The next thing that hit him was the blood. The beat of their hearts pumping away making Luke's fangs ache in his head. It had been awhile since he and Ashton had ventured out to 'top up' as his boyfriend liked to call it, they had been planning on going that afternoon after Ashton returned from his changing. Obviously that wasn't going to happen any more.

Luke curled up against himself, trying to fight down the urges, even werewolf was temping right now, even with their wolf blood running high, he could smell it. There were ways of putting off the transformation, different drugs and treatments but it wasn't considered healthy so most werewolves didn't try it. However these guys clearly had a plan, Luke could see how they would think, how easier it would be to take him when they knew for sure Ashton would be gone for hours on end.

It also meant they were more dangerous, their wolf blood being capped making them more violent and instinct driven. Luke also knew that a werewolf was at his weakest the day after a full moon. If Ashton did find him, he didn't stand a chance.

One of them passed by the box, right by the hole in the side and the rush of _blood_ made Luke groan into his arms. But then he's being moved again, dragged this time, which does nothing to help the thumping in his head.

“ - saw him coming up the south road...shouldn't be more than a few minutes.”

_ashton_

“Just him?”

“No, brought a little friend to see the show too. Nothing to be worried about, from my cousin's old street, she said he's a runt just like the Irwin kid.”

_calum_

“Aww, bless them how cute.”

_no no no no no no no_

_they can't be here_

_they can't_

Luke didn't know what to do. He couldn't get out, couldn't warn Ashton than he and Calum were about to run into a trap, by the sounds of it these guys didn't mind if they took the other boy down too. He felt sick, kicking out at the sides of the box and hearing the few guys around him laugh at his efforts.

“I think someone heard us.” one of them chuckles and Luke growls, more like a hiss picturing ripping them limb from limb, screaming as he drains the life out of them, begging for their lives at his feet before he snaps their necks.

He has to get out, has to save Ashton, save Calum has to -

“Oh, look who finally made it to the party!”

“You're going to let him go right now and I _might_ be nice and kill you quickly.” Luke hears Ashton growl, bringing his escape attempts to a stop as he throws himself up to the hole.

“Ashton, go, run, you've got to get out of here! They're going to hurt you!” he yells.

Something hard comes slamming down against the box, the clang echoes around the small space making Luke's ears _sting._ “Gosh, you two are just too adorable, honestly.”

“Yeah, you're almost making me feel bad about all of this. Almost.” another wolf muses, and Luke can almost see the sneer on his face, picture the way Ashton must be stood, shoulders tensed and fists turning white at the knuckles. “Woah, woah, woah, careful their, pup. One more step and you'll be sorry.”

Ashton must have tried something, it kills Luke that he can't see him. “Just let him go, or I'll-”

There's a bang, a scrape and Luke screams out. There's another hole in the top of the box, wider than the other, the same width as the metal pole one of them just shoved through the top. Sunlight streaming in, hitting the top of Luke's arm and it _burns._

He doesn't have his ring, the part of his skin the light hit starts to peel away like ash until he manages to move away. There's a scuffle outside and Luke can make out Calum's strained voice, trying to calm Ashton, clearly trying to hold him back as the other boy screams at them “You bastards, you fucking bastards!”

“We told you.” the guy says, Luke figured he must be the leader at this point. “You'll be sorry, so just stand there and be nice like the good pup you are and we wont kill you're precious boyfriend...well, not just yet anyway.” There's a ominous tap against the box in warning and Luke shuffles to the corner, hand clutching his arm as he hears the sounds of Ashton's struggling die down. “Good choice, and they told me you were stupid.”

“I'll listen, just don't hurt him.” Ashton yells, voice cracking and Luke wants to hold him.

More tapping, “Now, now, you don't make the rules around here boy, so watch yourself and listen up while we explain why we're going to kill you.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> love to hear what you think so far, so please please please let me know *sigh here she goes again with the tumblr thing* but yeah come say hi or what not (cliffakitten.tumblr.com) xx


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